Revisiting The Sandman

We had a lovely time on the mainland. It was wonderful to see everyone and the weather was fantastic. North Carolina was at its finest.

Then we came home, and the house was plunged into chaos. Our beloved daycare auntie gave us her two month's notice. Searching for childcare is much like it was when we moved here: every place we can afford is full. We hold out hope that we'll find something acceptable over the next two months. In the meantime, we're touring preschools we can't afford. We fall into the system's cracks--too much income to qualify for financial aid, too little income to actually pay tuition. It's a lousy feeling, not being able to afford preschool for my son. It's the first childhood necessity that we cannot give him.

Then, X turns into a raging asshole. He won't do anything I ask him to do. He throws at least one tantrum a day, normally in a crowded and visible place. Every day I wonder who body snatched my sweet boy.

Everyone has something they turn to when things get stressful. Some people like religion. Some like substances. I'm revisiting Neil Gaiman's Sandman series, which, if I'm being honest, is probably my favorite book(s). I won't admit that to just anyone. I have enjoyed books with more literary merit. Dream of the endless, however, is who I like to spend my time with when I want to get lost in a story and think deep thoughts about life.