Change is good. You go first.

The 57th Street Langs have been experiencing a lot of change recently. Andrew started his new job at Salumè slightly before Memorial Day and since then he's been working double shifts (generally 10 am to 11 pm) at least five days a week. So I don't get completely ahead of myself, let me tell you a little about this brand new restaurant that fills Andrew's schedule and occupies our mental space.

I bet you've had a panini before. Deli meat, cheese and maybe some roasted vegetables, pressed between flat bread. Grill lines like prisoner's stripes running the length of the melted sandwich.

You've been deceived.

The warm, tasty sandwich we know as panini is about as Italian as french fries are French. Michele, the owner of Salumè is adamant that real Italian panini is lightly toasted, as pressing compromises the integrity of the meat and the cheese. Consider yourself schooled. I feel like Alton Brown.

Suffice to say, Andrew's been pretty tired lately, but I think he is enjoying being on the ground level of a new restaurant. His hard work is producing visible results in repeat customers and trim, elegant sandwiches. I'm immensely proud of him. I hope he feels the same about himself. The move to this new job was a calculated career move, not without risk. He's a sous chef now, though there isn't any real cooking involved in the new job. We've talked about starting our own sandwich shop, however, so this job can teach him how to do that.

I'm continually waiting for my life to settle down. Our lives, really. In the past four years we had a kid, got married, moved to a different city, started jobs, left jobs, been laid off from jobs, started new jobs, got a Masters degree, became an aunt and uncle, and moved to a new apartment. Change is a constant despite my wish that my life would stay relatively static. Exploring why I wish for stasis, I conclude that stress is change's cranky bedfellow, poking you in the back just when you find your comfortable spot.

Those who know me well know that I don't always react well to change. Deston is proving to take after me in this regard. He's been a hellion lately and it's because our schedules have changed and he can't control what is going on around him. When Andrew's not around much Deston becomes super clingy to me, to the point that he pushes Andrew away when he is around. This evening, for example, Deston told Andrew "I don't want you to be here." This is probably the one night this week he'll be home before midnight. Anyone would have a hard time hearing that, especially from your own child. Happily, we all ended up on our bed, cuddling, roughing and feeling close again. But who knows what will happen tomorrow morning.

In addition to making home life difficult, Deston has been misbehaving at daycare. He won't sit and do his work. He won't eat lunch. He won't stay in time out. He's staging elaborate protests, proclaiming to all the adults in his life that by God, he won't do anything unless he damn well feels like it. I asked Andrew tonight, "How can we make our kid less like us?"

I can hardly blame him for wanting to feel in control of his life. Choices he's been used to having -- who does daycare drop off, who brushes his teeth -- have been taken away from him. We all desire autonomy. Unfortunately, three-year-olds haven't earned too much of it and it hurts to realize it. I'm doing my best to help him through this and let him have his way when it's possible, but my mothering skills are being seriously put to the test. I'm not too proud of my grade these past three weeks, either. This past Saturday felt like postpartum again. Accomplishing minor tasks required maximum effort and I spent most of the day trying not to cry. Exhaustion, my old enemy, came back for a visit. No one in this house can claim to be a good person when we're over-tired; in fact, we're slightly evil. 

So, I'm trying to get more sleep and not answer Deston's foul mood with my own. My strategy is to enlist him as my superhero helper and play pretend as much as he wants, which is basically all the time. I miss company in the evenings, though this is a great time to watch movies that Andrew dislikes. If any of you ladies in the area want to join me, feel free.

I'll also try to model gracious acceptance of the things in my life that are beyond my control.

P.S. Next year, Flyers. You guys did great this season.