I'm sitting in the living room with Astrid, who is watching Curious George on PBS. I had just arrived at my Chicago Loop office this morning when I got a call from her school--she was in the nurse's office, about to throw up. I said I'd be there within 45 minutes (the usual time getting home on the El); today, of course, the subway was broken down, and I ended up taking the scenic route--75 minutes by bus--and then walking 15 minutes to her school--only to find her sitting cheerfully in the nurse's office. (Did I mention that I have bronchitis, and that between this chest cold and Astrid's stomach virus last week, I've been to work twice in the last eight weekdays?)
We walked the rest of the way home, with lots of singing and joking from Astrid, all of which stopped when I told her that she couldn't watch TV once we arrived at the house---at least not until the official school day was finished. This seemed outrageous to her. After arguing with me a bit, and hearing that she was "addicted to TV--like a smoker is addicted to cigarettes," though, she became very sober and independent. She read, did homework, ran an errand with me--then, when we were back and it was 3:30, I told her she could watch some TV.
In the meantime, I am worrying about work, wondering when this parenting-while-employed thing ever gets easier (not that I've known parenting any other way), and feeling cruddy. I got a reminder from an editor about a revision of an essay that was due one month ago; I do not feel equipped at the moment to think and write, but when will I be? Instead I am ripping out the button-down collar from a Lands End men's dress shirt that I hope to refashion (but how? no clue right now....). An un-constructive act for a day with not much to show for it. Blah.
1 comment:
I always say that God made the seam ripper just for me. I cannot get through a project without using mine and if I loose, as is typical during my process, it's not good at all:)
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