“how we spend our days is how we spend our lives”

by willeya

annie dillard.

this morning was a rush to make the grocery list from the meal plans i scribbled late last night.  atticus repeated “some. mouth.”, which is his new way of asking to eat.  i obliged between typing carrots and onions because i noticed this morning at breakfast that the straps on his booster chair were looser on his belly.  and in between all that i swallowed 8 oz of purple juice called beet kvass that tasted like beet flavored soda and was about the worst thing i have ever consumed.  it is said to cleanse the liver and aid digestion.

Trader Joe’s

atticus continued “some.mouth.” all the way through Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods so i obliged him with kombucha and a hot deal i found. $6 for thai chicken satay shish kabobs, grilled ratatouille vegetables and garlic green beans.  $3 per person.

after lunch i put atticus to bed in his new bedroom.  same room, different place.  ben and i worked many hours this weekend to do it up right.  it’s still not right right but we are still married and i can tell all three of us feel more peaceful in it.  i think i have finally settled on a personal decorating style.  it is stark and simple and white with lots of wood and pops of color.  like an old red barn in an Illinois prairie at twilight.

not a perfect expression of my style, but getting there

once the babe is down i turn full force to work.  i don’t bother with hair or teeth or dishes but i talk like a woman in stilettos and a pin stripe skirt to the pastor from church of the Nazarene.  eventually i settle into a book on attachment that makes me feel like Lauren Hill’s, Killing Me Softly:  “I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd I felt he found my letters, and read each one aloud”.  i have always wanted to sing that karaoke and that one time in the shower  i would have gotten a standing ovation.

working from home

this book flushes me with fever and i am reminded again why it is that i do what i do.

At the end of little women Fiedrich looks deeply in Jo’s eyes  and says, “Such a little name for… such a person.”.  That’s how i feel about my days.  There are so many parts of me and all of them are me and yet none of them are just me.  They pull at each other like checks and balances and if one gets too greedy, the other starts protesting.

i find that I am changing too, letting others change and influence me, not because i am losing me, but because i see me in them.  i am learning, too, how to end being them when it ends being me.   no less, no more.

crazy health food. farmhouse bedrooms. time-ins instead of time-outs. thinking big thoughts while he’s asleep.  i look back at the end of this day and it feels very much me.  i wonder what this says about my hygeine because i am sitting in the same clothes i put on Saturday night.

 

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