Sunday, May 17, 2009
Sprinkles or frosted? Cow or circle or flower shaped? My son knew without hesitation that sprinkles were the way to go, and he ate the whole cookie in a blink. These are the decisions we make at the cookie counter.
I'm not particularly good at making decisions, nor am I particularly bad at it. Some days and some things I just don't want to make decisions on. I mean, do I really need to belabor the Caribou (local chain) versus Starbucks versus Dunn Brothers (another local chain) decision in the morning? No, not really. Maybe if it was a decision as to whether intravenous or regular method was preferred, I'd think it over a bit before choosing.
But big decisions, well, I belabor them. Or I should say that I have a very thorough process of determining "if not x, then y" for every tiny component of the decision. I make pros and cons lists. Interviews seeking opinions are sought. Feedback requested. Books read. Best and worst case scenarios mapped out. Today, I am at such a crossroads requiring lists, diagrams and maps. Short term versus long term considerations explored. It can keep a person up at night with both thoughts of what could be, and what should be and might be and might not be and, well you get the point. It's keeping me up at night. What is this big decision, you ask?
It's simple really. It's a decision about whether to continue along the merry path of being a Minnesotan, buying fully into "Minnesota Nice" and sticking with my current state of residence happily dining on lutefisk and lefse, or whether to head homeward beyond the "cheddar curtain" back to Wisconsin ('Sconi' if you're cool) to live out my life saying "bubbler" and eating brats (not to be confused with a badly behaved child), and avoiding the Hodag. It's a tough choice and I'm not taking it lightly.
This weekend we spent time in 'Sconi househunting and hanging with the grandparents visiting the local farmer's market, oggling the morels and picking up some fresh produce (and cookies with sprinkles, of course). I'm trying to be patient, and not push a decision and all the part that need to fall into place too much. I try to adopt the "meant to be" philosophy.
Maybe we'll look back and say, wow, that was so easy it must have been meant to be. Or, we'll say that it was worth all the hard work it took to get there, wherever there is. It's hard to be patient while letting pieces fall, however. And so of course, I go back and remind myself of all the pros and cons and reaffirm my choices along the way. And then there's the brat versus lefse taste-off. No doubt which'll win that, though.
So, you're me. Your job says "yeah, okay, we don't like it but you can relocate." Your neighborhood sucks and you have to move out of the current house regardless. Do you move a state away where your kid's family is? Or do you stick it out, in relative driving distance from family where you have lots of friends, familiarity, etc.? What do you do? I'll add your opinions to my list of things to consider.
Posted by Vintage Tracy at 8:30 PM