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You know what's awesome about being a toddler? Your whole world is wrapped up in what you can climb, run around in, hold, poop on or eat, punctuated by ny-ny-time.  Things get significantly more complicated and scary as you go. By the time you're 30, you find yourself wide awake at 3 in the morning, having been up for 2 hours already, and with no chance of going back to sleep before you go back to your awful job and its serious strains on your faith in humanity, its lack of any recognition for what you've done, and  its "you should be grateful we treat you this poorly" mentality.

Tonight I find myself holding on to the mantra of everything happening for a reason, though the statistician in me knows that the "reason" is often nothing more than inherent randomness. I've never been as worried about the future as I find myself being lately. The options seem to be to hold on to a bad situation and the bad person I am becoming as a result, with the financial comforts that it offers, or to take a huge financial risk to provide a better human experience for my family. One choice is the soul-crushing but safe bet for Isaac, who is going to need braces and glasses and vaccinations (because any parent not insisting their child gets his/her shots should themselves be shot with a gun). The other is liberating but terrifying at the same time.

By the way, if you've never looked up an old teacher of yours (work the google on the internet machine), do so, and send them a thank you. Especially with the way things are going in education, those people need to be reminded of any of the good they've done. It seems really distant a lot of the time.

And through all of this, the sound of Isaac, champ-a-champ, having slept through the spring's first thunder storm with almost no issue.