for me, for my family

This photo of Jimmy and Lena might be my favorite from our summer this year. It was taken on the Cayucos pier on the Fourth of July, right after the annual small-town parade and just before a damn-near perfect afternoon on the beach. And in addition to reminding me of one of the best weekends we've ever had together, both as a couple and as a family, it's also a great depiction of the joy that the two of them are both capable of exuding at any given moment, multiplied exponentially when they're together. Here's Jimmy giving Lena the "one, two, three!" pretend toss over the side of the pier, and I can still hear her giggling and squealing in one long, uncontrollable, ridiculously adorable peal.

This is why I wanted to have children with Jimmy. Just look at the two of them. How is that not bliss?


Today is the third morning of preschool for Lena, and the end of the first full week back at work for Jimmy. After such a luxurious summer with the two of them at home, I'm still adjusting to the quiet house, and the time alone. Although I know I'm crazy lucky to have this time to myself right now, it's taking a little getting used to. It's been so easy for me, the past two years, to spend my free time caught up in making sure the house is in order and that we have enough paper towels and milk to get through the week, and I'm not entirely sure I remember how to do the things I like to do. In the time since I left work to be a mom, I've lost track of my girlfriends, my social skills, and my hobbies. Oh, and my waist. Where the hell did that thing go? But maybe you can imagine, without these things, how a sudden shift to fifteen hours a week of uninterrupted, unscheduled TIME might be overwhelming.

Or not. I've been called crazy before.


So. I'm counting this week as my transition period, and next week I plan to begin some projects of my own, just for me, in an effort to try to locate some pieces of me that appear to have gone missing.

My to-do list:

• write
• listen to music
• read
• draw
• check in with old friends
• run
  

Maybe you'll think I'm making too big a deal of this, but it's important to me in more ways than one. I want my daughter to have a mother who's comfortable in her own skin, who is accomplished and interesting and most of all, happy. I don't want her to look back when she's older and say, "We always had milk in the house, and never ran out of toilet paper." And Jimmy certainly deserves the same in a wife.

Wish me luck.