Tuesday, October 16, 2007


Monday I had kind of a low day. I think I possibly read too many blogs--that might be what started it. I've always liked to take walks in the early evening when you can catch a glimpse into people's houses--they're getting supper ready or watching the news...It's fascinating to get a little look into other's people's lives. Blogs let you do that. I read some great ones. However, it seems that in addition to being great and funny writers, these women I read somehow homeschool all their children, sew all their clothes from vintage fabrics, knit, set up elaborate home organization and cooking systems to follow, take fabulous photos, dispense fashion advice, grow organic vegetables...it's so overwhelming. Then I tell myself, "But...Self! You work!" Yeah, I do. So do some of them. They're lawyers and professors and people obtaining their PhDs while I'm sitting at my desk sifting through 10th-grade science rubrics for hours on end, making sure the grammar and punctuation is correct. Then I go home and am so tired I give my kids Chex mix for dinner and let them watch Madeline.

Lately too Elaine has been waking up at night. I think she's napping too long and too late during the day (oh good. I get to shorten her naps!), and then by 2:30 a.m. she's ready to be up. It also could be the approximately 72 ounces of bathwater she ingests right before bedtime, so she's waterlogged and wants a change. Plus another drink so she can be waterlogged again by the true time to get up. So I'm dragging myself out of bed, changing her, then she commands, "Blanket. Rock." We get her blanket and settle ourselves in the rocking chair. I sit there in the dark, holding her dead weight on my lap. Then she'll bring her little face right up to me, push her nose against mine, smile her huge smile, and say "HI!" in her loud, raspy, chain-smoker's voice. Then she'll fling her arms around me, bury her face in my neck, and whisper to herself, "Mommy!"as she snuggles up to me as tight as she can.

Then as I sniff the little dandelion fluff that is her hair and rock her in the peaceful dark, I think, "I get this. I get her." And I think about those other women and go, so what? Whatever.

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