While it's true that i love being the author of my life, sometimes it's really, really hard to decide what to do with said life. Right now, i am loving living in Nicaragua where i can afford to pay someone to clean my toilets, and where i get to swim outdoors in December. I heart the tropics.
I have hit my stride and i'm loving it here -- to the point where i dread the stress and the money strains that will come when we return home. In short, i was even thinking of staying.
The rebelangel, on the other hand, is counting down the days until we leave. With constant connectivity via FaceTime, email, iMessage and the rest, she gets to see every day what she's missing out on back home. Her friends talk about stuff that she doesn't get to take part in, and it bothers her. I tell her she wouldn't get to be part of everything even if she was there. There are limits, i say. She tells me she misses having lots of friends. I point out that friends here are constantly coming to the door. She says she misses being cold. I ask her what about that boogie board she was hoping to get, on account of her newfound love of riding Pacific waves?
I try to counter her every argument with a rosy-hued view of how good we have it here, but it doesn't always work. Sometimes, i wish for an ally to back me up. I've tried getting out more, and even online dating, but i haven't found the right one yet.
Maybe it's not even that i need someone to help me convince her, but that i need someone to help me make decisions. Am i making the right ones? Am i mad to leave our family and friends? What about the fact that i can actually save money here and that having sun on my skin every day makes me feel more alive?
But back to the little issues at hand. Like a 1950s, strict parent, i have to finally resort to saying that as the parent, what i say goes... even if i am not really sure whether to stay, to go, to put my foot down, or to just let it hang from the hammock...