As I write this post, my nose is dripping in goo. My son is upstairs reading the fourth book of the Harry Potter series. My daughter is selling “cootie catchers” (these paper crafts that tell the future) on the corner with her friend Miss L.
Regarding my nose, it is awful to be sick and working full-time. But hey, the bright side is that Pip made me a pot of coffee before bounding out the house and Stink brought me water. My husband brought me two biscottsi and this laptop. My living room is clean and the birds are chirping! Plus two days a week I work from home. I am pretty darn lucky.
Regarding my son and his books, I’m thrilled he likes them so much. Library day is still one of his favorite outings. I was going to write you that when he reads he doesn’t tic, but he just let out a loudish kind of exhale. I am not a fan of this particular one as it’s the loudest one he’s ever had – and I thought we had dodged a bullet on those intrusive ones – but he’s happy, so I must be, too. (It’s not crazy relentless unless he’s playing videos. Will I stop the video game insanity once and for all? No. Two hours/day on weekends is fine.)
Regarding my daughter selling cootie catchers on street corners, Miss L’s mom is with them. And seriously, that kid makes cash – about ten bucks each time drags the cart out and sets up shop. “Mommy, being a kid is great!” she says. “People give us stuff just because they think we are cute!”
NOTE: There’s a fine line between cute 9-year-old and curvy pre-tween, so let’s just say her cootie catcher street corner days will be over soon. But guess who else isn’t going to be young forever? Yup, none other than my Stink. He’ll be 12 in January. I might not miss the tics when they finally go into remission in his late teens, but I’ll sure miss his spirit. He is pure joy and outrageous fun.
I write this because my job right now is not easy. I’m doing all this tech stuff I’m not a fan of. I commute a LONG way. I’m tired. But the deal is, it’s where I need to be right now while my husband grows his business. It’s teaching me that no one has died from a difficult employment gig. And, well, I don’t want to miss out on my kids’ childhoods because I was so caught up in what wasn’t working: tics, job stress, life changes at home.
Summer is coming. What will I be doing? Beach Fridays with the kids when I get out of work at 2. Long days at the local public pool. A camping excursion with the hubby and babies where we’ll over eat, over hike, get filthy dirty and enjoy some laughs.
Oh, and I’m going to write. Yup, I’m getting my portfolio up online and going to get back freelance writing again. If my book sells, great. If it doesn’t, I can still do the writing. Why? Because when I don’t, I feel cranky and tired and suddenly the tics are SO MUCH BIGGER than they need to be. My husband is SO MUCH MORE ANNOYING and my daughter is WAAAAY TOO DEMANDING. Writing gives me hope, and hope trumps crap every single time.
What about you? What do you do for a living? Do you work raising babies or work in an office? What is your passion? And the bigger question, are you pursuing it? I want to know.
I miss interacting with you ladies. Leave a comment and let me know how I can encourage you.