Day 42. 10 small moments

1. We have blueberry pancakes, sausages, fruit and coffee while he devours a bowl of instant ramen. I had said no, but he has figured out how to leverage tenacity during the loopholes of parenting while sick.

2. I put my jacket on to move the car only to realize that I haven’t been outside since Sunday when I fell ill. I feel a weird mix of adrenaline and vertigo. Is this what agoraphobia feels like? I feel liberated above all else… so probably not.

3. It feels strange to walk into the factory today. It’s been so long, and I feel the usual feeling of not quite belonging there when he’s not there as well.

4. The first session goes well. She loves our color palette so much that she matched her nail polish to last Spring’s cup sleeve for the entire season (!!). She shows me the photo and I am reminded of why I do this: human beings are motivated to do fascinating things for even the smallest of reasons. It is my job to be moved by such gestures and to listen to what they’re really saying.

5. Between sessions I review their proposal to the UX client. I had already agreed to the gig without any information except the expected time frame. There is a familiar surge of confidence that they have in me (and I have in myself) that I can do anything they propose, and that is juxtaposed with the hesitation I am constantly feeling in this phase of my life. I claw towards that raft of conviction even if it means the sacrifice of peace and tranquility for everyone else. It is just for two months. I convince myself.

6. I feel greedy for wanting to do it all… and also pick out the color of the new high chairs for Chicago. I’m reminded of how he tries to put as many noodles as possible on one fork.

7. Jasmine tea in a carafe. Manuka honey cough drop.

8. We meet at the new house to look at the progress and dream. We’re both in different states of tired and healing, but he is beautiful to me.

9. Dinner is a comically large fish sandwich. I look at the plate and have no idea why I ordered this thing. I blame it on bad timing when I also realize I still don’t have any appetite.

10. I hold her in my arms for a little before she goes in her crib. She rubs her lovey into her eye socket as if she’s waxing a car, but she is beautiful to me.