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.