This post is a quickie, as the boys and I are picnicking outside the library, and as usual I'm at the mercy of 1) a fraternal fracas that could strike any second, and 2) a laptop battery with the life expectancy of a popsicle at the Equator.
Last week, Moxie and I finally struck a deal to move to Ann Arbor, MI, at the end of the month. Until then, the kids and I are traveling around New England as part of BeachQuest '11, while she's there looking for housing for both of us. It's not the most orthodox way to go about things, but I sort of gave up on orthodoxy years ago.
It's been noisy inside my head for the last few months, as BachelorMe and FatherMe debated our next move. BachelorMe loves New York and will stifle a sigh every time he sees familiar landmarks on Louie or 30 Rock. But FatherMe never really considered raising his kids as full-time New Yorkers, even before CoParentMe had an ex-wife who routinely broadcasts her hatred for the place. After we inked the addendum to our divorce agreement, all the ManyMe's finally shut up and I slept for 11 hours. We all needed it.
It's also helped that everyone I've talked to--every single everyone--says Ann Arbor is just a great place to raise kids. If you've let me bend your ear about A2 in the past, thank you. Your testimony has been more helpful than you could ever know.
We announced the decision over at WTFGU, and amid all the helpful commentary was a theory that we had been negotiating a way for us to live in two separate cities. For the record, that was the furthest thing from my mind. Despite the divorce, I will always think of the four of us as a U-shaped family, with two heads seeking their separate fortunes but conjoined by two boys who, when not developing innovative ways to hospitalize each other, delight me more than I ever thought possible.
For example: Yesterday TwoBert conducted an experiment of singing to periwinkles, to see what music they'd respond to. Of the eight-gastropod focus group, three popped from their shells for Katy Perry's Firework, but a whopping four waggled during the Star Wars theme. Pleased with the result, the scientist transcribed his findings in his journal and then set about creating some superpower wristbands out of envelopes.
You think I'd ever agree to miss out on that? The popsicle has a better chance.
