Today was something of a Red-Letter day in our small part of the city: a new Wal-Mart opened down the road from me. This was despite much resistance in the area, as local unions were bound and determined to try to keep Wal-Mart out of Toledo. They were, of course, bound to fail, as little short of an apocalypse could stop the Wal-Mart leviathan from moving where it wants to go.

Politics aside, I love the mad, shoulder-to-shoulder crush of a new store's opening. Of course I went; I was bored enough, what with Eric being out of town this week for business in Wisconsin.

While I was there, browsing and enjoying the near-spotless floors for what will probably be their last crud-free day, I heard an announcement over the speaker system:

"Attention, Wal-Mart shoppers! We're now giving free portrait packages at our Portrait Studio! Come and sign up now!

Can't beat that with a stick. I pushed Sam in the cart to the front of the store, weaving in and out of foot traffic as best I could and making race-car sounds to entertain the boy. We ended up being first in line for the bargain.

The bargain turned out to be a package based on a single shot of Sam's head and shoulders, school portrait fashion, after which she took six additional shots to try to make some actual money. It's a great scam, because the kids will inevitable act increasingly adorable, making it almost impossible for Mom to turn down the other shots. We were no exception; since we were in the market for new portraits of Sam anyway (it was supposed to be a part of my birthday present, initially), I was more than happy to accept three additional pictures of the boy.

  

  

It's the little things that make us happy sometimes.

So, Eric is in Wisconsin. I would have liked to have gone with him again, but since he was leaving Monday night and not returning until Friday, I would have had to miss class last night. True, I could have found a sub, but with a once-a-week class, that would have meant missing a while unit without opportunity to make it up, and this one was Indonesia. Miss doing the gamelan? Not a chance.

Sam and I have therefore been on our own this week. Sam's really missing Eric; last night, he stayed with Alysia while I taught, and he apparently wouldn't let her husband get more than two feet away from him all night. He was even calling him "Da-da" (which is new, as he's called Eric "Daddy" from almost the beginning). For my part, I'm lonely, bored, and not sleeping well - my usual state when Eric's away on business.

I hate a too-quiet house in the evenings. Sam's asleep, and I've got lights on in three rooms, both the TV and the computer running, and I'm still jumping every time the heater clicks on. Every night, I have to keep myself up until my eyelids can barely open halfway before allowing myself to collapse into bed, or else I lie wide awake under the covers, shivering and listening for any stray sound that should enter my consciousness. Sam's presence is no help; I'm no better on my own than I was before I was a mother, before I was a wife. I just can't sleep alone.

While Eric is meeting with future bosses, future friends, and people involved with our future relocation, I'm sitting here, twiddling my thumbs and trying to find ways to pass the time. Today we went to Alysia's store; tomorrow we're going to the church's Candy Corn Festival. The fewer hours we can spend sitting around this house, the less time I have to miss my husband.

He says that the new job may even involve international travel. I may cry.

It's turning out that this entire fall is boiling down to the single theme of "Closure." Not only am I having to call at least a temporary end to my teaching, not to mention an end to life in northwest Ohio, but Alysia's now closing her store. I need to find a way to sell off the hats that I currently have in her stock. I'll be putting a list of them up in my online store soon. In the meantime, I'm looking forward to having more time available to spend with her and Zach before we have to leave.

It's going to be so hard to leave them behind. Maybe it's just that Sam grows more verbal by the day (by the minute, it seems sometimes), but it seems as though he growing closer and closer to Zach every day. He crashes his cars and blames it on Zach, even when we're alone in the house. He insists on buying two Matchbox cars instead of one, not telling me until we leave the store that one is to be a present for Zach. Two days ago, he began asking me, "Zach bath? Sleep? All night? All night Zach? Bath Zach, sleep?" He doesn't get that Zach, too, is just a pinch too young yet to consider sleeping away from his mommy and daddy for the night.

Looking back, looking around, is hard beyond imagining. I have to keep looking forward, which isn't so bad. I look at Wisconsin real estate, and I can almost begin to smile in anticipation. I feel a little like Lot and his family, fleeing their city and home; as long as I keep my eyes on the path, I'll be okay, but if I look back, I'll crumble into dust.

Happy Halloween, everybody.