I make pizza on the same days I bake bread because it's easy that way.
After punching down the dough and dividing it into loaves, I roll the extra flat and bake it on a pizza stone. When I did that yesterday, my little 21-month helper stood on a kitchen chair and insisted on assisting with the cheese (by putting it on the pizza, and then off the pizza and into her mouth).
Watching her, I wondered if some day, when Claire and her future siblings come inside from playing and smell bread baking, they'll know it's pizza night.
Maybe this new rhythm—that I'm creating out of ease—will feel comfortable and reliable to them by then. Maybe it will become tradition. Maybe not.
But traditions. Get me thinking about a word and I'll head to the geekiest dictionary I can find. Definition number one...
tradition: act of delivering into the hands of another
Yes, traditions include a fair amount of repetition and festivity (definition #6). But I love the idea that tradition might first be about giving something, delivering a sort of gift—a gift that passes on a recurring message: "This is what life means. This is how much you mean to me. This is what to rely on when things feel shaky." I hope she gets the message that I mean to send.
If you find yourself jobless on an unexpected Monday afternoon, it's a good idea not to worry about a thing.
The wound is so fresh and startling that you probably don't even need this advice. You'll feel confident that a job will be had by early next week. If it isn't, don't panic then, either.
Remember: there is no way that you can stay unemployed forever, as long as you're looking. A few weeks, months, or even a year are not forever—no matter how they may feel like it.
Do what needs doing.
You might want to say things. No. Your wife may want to say certain things: to your former employer, to (dangerously) the internet. If you married someone with common sense (or an anxiety complex about self-disclosure), she will hold her tongue in the face of frustration... Although she may write some strongly worded letters she will never send.
It's okay—wise, even—to step back, to let some things slide. You don't need to feel guilty for neglecting the blog. You don't need to tell everyone every sad setback. Choose where and when you tell those stories.
But never stop talking to each other.
If you take care of your little girl during the day so your wife's part-time hours can cover some of the bills, "Daddy" will soon be the first word out of that girl's mouth every morning when she wakes up. She may also ask for bubbles. Or doggie. Which means you are very important indeed.
Ok, panic. But take turns.
The down days will come. The credit card bills will arrive. It will be at least 3 months before your old boss tells you he made a mistake and wishes he hadn't let you go—if he tells you at all. Some days, you'll feel bummed, frustrated, rejected.
How nice if there are two of you. You'll ride different waves at different times. When you're up, say kind words that are true. When you're down, listen to the words that come your way.
You will end up living what you already trusted about each other—that you're in this together, come what may.
If the job search goes on longer than you thought possible, figure out a way to make potatoes taste delicious. They're cheap.
Trust that things will show up.
Stop trying to wrap your mind around the way everything will work out. There are too many variables to juggle, and you're not in control of nearly as many as you think.
Your neighbors will invite you to dinner (thanks, Kenworthys). You might letter-press for an afternoon (thanks, Leland). Your wife might become an audition pianist for a day, a job she was grateful for, but in hindsight, also terribly underqualified for (thanks Tara and Bethany). Someone may order handmade crafts (thanks, Adrienne). The arrival of those checks will be more timely than their senders know.
And then some nameless do-gooder will leave a box of food at your doorstep just when you're wondering if potatoes and rice could possibly go together for dinner. It's okay that you don't know who should get a thank-you note. Things will show up for them, too.
Don't try to figure out how you made it this long. Just be grateful for everything that got you through.
And then take a deep breath, even more grateful for what comes next.
Today is Monday, and you're on your way to work at a new job.
Welcome! It's just the three of us and we're pretty happy. One of us is a scientist. One of us is a writer. And one of us is the most adorable toddler on the planet. We'll let you guess which is which.