I am a young(ish). working professional. mom. This blog is all about that. And cupcakes.
“So, you took some time off this year.”
I guess my maternity leave could be viewed that way. My story was more along the lines of how I busted my arse to get back to work – figuring out daycare, having the hubby step up for paternity leave, and tackling, head on, the work/family blend.
A 103 degree fever this week had me removing my daughter’s fancy, modern sleep sack in favor of a lighter blanket.
As I rubbed her back, I found myself studying the blanket I’d chosen. An afghan crocheted by my grandma.
Growing up, we had afghans everywhere in the house. We, in Illinois, would pick out yarn, ship it to North Carolina and at the next birthday or holiday, another afghan would appear.
My personality leads me to being a person that dives in to a project, gets lost in it, tunes everything out, then reemerges either feeling done, accomplished or bored with the project…and I begin something else.
When my daughter was born, life became about 15 minute increments. What could I do, complete, achieve in that time frame.
I started with household cleaning. Tidying, laundering, etc. The stuff got done, but it didn’t feel very meaningful.
A old friend from high school passed away last month. We had reconnected last year after S was born. The first time in seventeen years.
It feels astounding to write that.
When he passed, I was flooded with images and feelings of high school. I wandered down the road of nostalgia. I felt old. This is the age that these things happen. His passing affected me deeply. While time had passed, connection had not.
I get so inspired by Pinterest. Sometimes I actually attempt the ideas. For example, I’m currently on a role of “CrockPot Mondays” and have enjoyed making things like Lasagna Soup and Taco Bowls. Other times, I try the activity and figure out how I can be lazy about some of the rules, like the DIY Canvas Prints.
I sat on the floor last Monday morning, dressed in jammies, coffee in hand, playing blocks with my daughter. It was one of those peaceful moments, lasting two minutes on average. In those two minutes, I wondered for the first time, what will this all look like in five years, when she is five and I am forty?
It was the first time I started connecting today’s actions to tomorrow’s results. I let my mind move to ten years out, then fifteen – when she’ll be fifteen and I, fifty.