Don't Drink the Water

I was hired for my new job because I'm awesome, and because the current learning specialist (whom I'll call "E" because I'm not sure how wild she'd be about my writing about her on the Internet) is expecting a baby in about two weeks. She hopes to come back once a week after he's born, but they need someone full time, hence my hire. E is fantastic at her job and is leaving some seriously huge shoes to fill. She's a school psychologist by training, so she knows a ton about the different assessment measures we use, as well as having a really great intuitive sense for how kids' minds work. I'm sorry to see her go.

The other learning specialist, V, comes in once a week. She's great too, although I see a lot less of her - obviously - than I do of E. V is pregnant, too, with her third child, and she and her family are moving to North Carolina soon after the baby is born. About four years ago, V worked full time. Then she got pregnant with her first son, so E came in to take her place. Now V is moving, E is pregnant with plans to come in once a week, and I am taking E's place. Dr. Yellin made a very disturbing comment about the cyclical nature of life at the Yellin Center, to which I burst out, "I don't even have a boyfriend!"

Luckily L, the school psychologist, is nowhere near maternity, and neither is R, our intrepid receptionist. Still, I rarely seem them; I work closely with E every day, and with V every Thursday, which sometimes makes it seem like everyone else in the world has pretty different priorities than I do. Who's to say that in four years I won't be training my replacement while fighting off cravings for pickles and cooing over doilies (or whatever it is pregnant women spend their time doing)? Until then, it's safe to say that the very idea makes me want a martini. Bad.