For the final jellybean photo, I opted to leave the jar sitting in its normal spot on the counter between the kitchen and living room, where I have walked by it a thousand times a day since January, glancing impatiently at it every time. Will those jellybeans ever go down? I wondered. And look at them now!
Last month on my birthday Tim surprised me with the news that he would be home about three weeks early. The girls and I danced around for joy, and then I re-counted how many jellybeans we'd need and ended up removing a couple big handfuls. I then gave them to the girls to put on top of my frosted birthday cookies.
Then I resumed the impatient glances at the now drastically reduced jellybean jar.
Our waiting is almost over. Tim is on his way. I remember how much that first couple of weeks sucked, with all the cold and the sickness and the sadness. Then we got better and settled into our routine, and things got predictable and sometimes fun, and I could manage it all and even be happy. Now I feel an anxiousness creeping up on me. I hope it goes smoothly, I hope it goes on time, I hope the kids don't get cranky, I hope it doesn't rain, I hope Tim's not too appalled at the way I've let some things go (oh, I know he doesn't care, he just wants to be with us again).. All these different things keep crossing my mind. As Aunt Miriam would say, I have an acute case of "expectation-induced anxiety", right, Grace? It's too bad that's not a real psychological term because it's brilliant.
The same photographer who took our homecoming pictures last time will be doing them again for us. I can't wait until I can share the new ones! Maybe they will even be the last. That would be nice.