Fear and Hoping in Los Angeles

It struck me the other day that I have a fantastically supportive husband.

I already knew this, but right now it's really shining through. He's taken Fine Doodles as his full-time job until school starts, and he isn't even really getting paid. Yet. It's probably the biggest financial risk we've ever taken. If the upcoming changes for FD don't pay off, we'll have wasted a month of full-time earning potential. I don't know that we'll be rich off of Fine Doodles any time soon, but the hope is that we'll be able to pay for rent every month from the income. I think this is reasonable, as we actually (if you don't count shipping and supply costs) earned that much already during our most successful month. However, it was an insane month, I was crazy stressed, and there's no way I can handle that many orders consistently with two kids. Thus we raised prices. Thus we slowed business down. Thus we're spending more time on marketing and finding other, creative ways of making the business profitable. Hopefully, someday, we'll find a nice balance of supply and demand.

On top of this, Andy is encouraging me in my illustration pursuits. Coaching me and carving out time for me to work on it. Time that I could be spending doing something less risky and almost certainly profitable, like painting portraits of people's dogs. But he knows that illustration is what I really want to do. He's putting all of his eggs in my basket. He believes in me and my talent, and he's doing everything he can to help me succeed.

What a great husband, am I right?

This is a terrifying realization, of course. It could take years to see whether these things fly or flop, and by then we'd be up to our ears in student debts and wasted time. I guess that in some ways, I'm doing the same for Andy: I'm doing what I can to support him through school all in the hopes that, years down the road, all this time and money we've invested in him will yield a viable career. And he is a great teacher, he will be a great professor, and I believe in him.

Also, we happen to be in a perfect spot in life to take a few risks right now. Because we pretty much have nothing to lose.

So. Time to muster up some faith and some hard work.

In other news, it's no secret that being 8.5 months pregnant kind of stinks sometimes. Being 8.5 months pregnant and sick with a husband who is also sick and a toddler who is also sick with the same cold AND an ear infection AND has fifty molars coming through...has its moments. Yet Elliot's a surprisingly cheerful and sweet little boy through most of it. But I'm hopeless without at least a good two-hour nap.