Defining Time

A. is sleeping on the floor in a "sleeping bag" she made for herself out of a comforter. She's moderately sick--a little fever, congested, tossing and turning. Though I'm completely stressed about the job interviews I have this week, I laid down next to her till she went to sleep. Lying there, I was conscious of how important it is to calm myself down--I could feel her heartbeat her breathing, she could feel mine. I wanted to give her peace through being next to her, not anxiety. I breathed more deeply, slowed my breath. I relaxed my tight jaw, my almost unconsciously pursed lips. I tried to completely relax. A. snuggled up next to me and held my arm. Through helping her, I helped myself. Isn't it always the way?

I was thinking the other day about death and definitions of self, again. My life is undeniably built around my family, but is it weakness to focus on that? Maybe I'm hedging my bets too much, and it's just another way to prevent myself from being hurt. Does loving another person completely mean that there is no thought beyond that fulfilling that love?

I'm fairly certain I need to attempt to live in the "here and now" much more than I do. After all, isn't it through being more "present" that we build a stronger future? I think I may also be too caught up in avoiding pain. No joy without sorrow, and all that.

Well, regardless of all that, here's what I came up with the other day. Some qualities that I want to try to build--BEING...thoughtful (meaning empathy as well as flexing intellectual muscles more), nice, honest. BEING organized, productive, creative, focused.

I'm Still Here

Life goes on. Profound, right? A is in the living room watching the end of the teletubbies. In the kitchen, the fix-it woman's tools are left--she's gone to the hardware store to get some pieces to fix our sink. And in the kitchen, here I am typing away, two stacks of books and papers piled a foot high. Haven't heard from the woman with whom I'd been working to try to get an interview for a job next year, but I have heard from what I thought was the "long shot" job and I have an interview for later this month. I'm now perched on the corner of the chair as A has joined me. She sees the scissors with which I facilitated the repair of S.O.'s suit coat button and promptly goes to the kitchen closet to retrieve her own scissors. She's back at the table now, speaking partly to herself, partly to me. "Don't cut mommy's papers. Don't cut this book, don't cut that book...

The fix it lady's back. A and I are on our way outside to enjoy the 60 degree March weather (tricycle ride and maybe even a couple times around the block with the baby jogger so I can get some exercise).

The sun is shining. My car has been towed somewhere and I'm waiting till later to hear the bad news about how much it will cost to get it fixed. I have a mental list of all the things I'm going to do in the magical two hours during which A is asleep (of course, it's about a full day's worth of work). But the sun is shining. We're going outside. I love my daughter so much.