Struggling through with joy... |
kind of.
Struggling through with joy... |
I have every Friday off this school year. When my daughter was born, my husband and I decided it would be best to live with a tight budget so I could be with our kids more while they’re little. I’ve patched together a couple of different roles at my school and I get to work part time.
It. Is. Awesome. Every Friday feels like a gift. My daughter and I drop my son off at preschool and we have the whole morning to ourselves. I had so much time with my son, but with the second child it just doesn’t happen. So, Friday mornings are our time. We often pick up a few things at the store, maybe do some yoga together, maybe draw or go for a walk. Yesterday she joined me to do dishes, one of her new favorite activities. When she saw me filling the kitchen sink she asked, “Bubbles?” I nodded my affirmation and she ran to a kitchen chair a, grunting as she tried to pull it closer to the sink. I helped her haul it over and she climbed up, plunging her chubby hands into the water before I could even roll her sleeves up. We stood together quietly, me staring out the window as I soaped and rinsed the dishes, she grabbing suds and squeezing them in her hands. Occasionally I narrated what I was washing or told her what was going on outside the window. “There’s our kitty, Lola,” I told her, “Sunbathing.” “Lello?” she asked, rising on her tiptoes to glance out the window. She went about her work seriously, as she so often does when playing. She stirred the bubbles with a tablespoon and grabbed the dishcloth to scrub it. By the time I drained the sink, her sleeves were soaked. As the water disappeared she smacked the last of the bubbles. I looked down at her fine, soft hair, her head bent in concentration and her arm reaching for bubbles. “Thanks for being mommy’s helper,” I told her. She danced happily on the chair. I braced myself for the rage that would soon ensue as I removed her from her task. She yelled a little bit when I set her on the floor, but was quickly distracted by the promise of a snack. We sat together eating in the early spring sun coming in through the back door. “Lello?” she asked as the cat sauntered in, and giggled when Lola stretched and yawned at my feet. “Are you my best girl?” I asked. “Noooo!” she yelled, then grinned and tilted her head at me. On our way to pick up my son she dozed off in her car seat. We drove in silence to his preschool. When I pulled her out of her car seat she snuggled her head on my shoulder and continued dozing. I brushed her hair out of her eyes and kissed her cheek. She sighed and settled deeper into my arms as I walked into his school. Like I told you, Fridays off are awesome.
2 Comments
3/10/2018 01:52:26 pm
That sounds so great! My children are 19 months apart, and after my son was born I didn't go back to work for 2 years. It was the best time. We had so much fun together. I wanted to only go back part time, but couldn't make it work with my principal. I love these alone-together times with each of them even more now that they are older.
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Sonja Schulz
3/10/2018 02:13:20 pm
what a gorgeous day you've described! I've never had the opportunity to have Fridays off, but it sure sounds lovely.
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