I am working at the computer over Christmas break, the kids alternately playing in front of the fire or running around screaming at each other. If we split the kids up they somehow become little miracle children, with no yelling. So Barry takes Nathan to the store while I get a few moments to write my Ehow articles (Sample title: How to Become a Real Estate Agent in Singapore. Yes, no kidding.) I write in the few seconds while the baby is sleeping in the crib or, since she sleeps longer if I hold her, usually she's sleeping on one of my arms after nursing and I type one-handed while my butt falls asleep and begins to really hurt under her 17 pounds of giddy flesh.
It's the last day of a three week winter break that has included alot of cookie-making, and even more cookie-eating (all done by me). There's some relief in the house with the boys out, a little pocket of extra quiet, a moment to focus. Emma comes to me in the office, naked. She has a box called "Rainbow Ribbon Dress-up" that her Aunt Chris gave her from Maryland. Inside is an elastic band that you put around your waist with ribbons hanging down in a fairy cascade. But first you have to build the fairy ribbon skirt, the whole point of the box is that you make the fairy skirt together.
"Can we make this?" She looks at me with her bobbing blue eyes.
She's already naked because I promised to fill the tub for her. The baby is this time asleep in her crib and I have free hands. I open the box, and she says "ahhh!" at the pretty ribbons in their packages. We look at the instructions together and I see this is going to take awhile to do. Tomorrow morning is school. The baby will be up soon, I have this article to write. I hesitate. But this is the end of Christmas this year, this is all we're getting, and here's my five year old baby, ready for anything fun. Hmm. How can I do it all.
"Well, babe," I say, "Let's do the bath first."
"Okay," she says. The box is put on the desk for later. We head to the bathroom and I remember they got bubble bath for Christmas. Suddenly the bath is going to be exciting. We fill the tub and the bubbles start spreading. She hops in with her long blonde hair. I get back to my computer. She calls me to help her. I go back in and she needs the mirror from the sink so she can prop it up and look at her face with a parade of various bubble beards.
She's entertained in the tub and I run back to finish what I can while the baby sleeps. The rushing to entertain so I can rush to write is kind of a life-stealing scam. You cheat yourself out of living your life so you can write about living your life. But she's there with me, her box on the desk, her naked memory still next to me, her voice as she chatters to the bubbles in the next room. I hear her, I love her, I remember being her, and now I'm on the other side, experiencing the household, the family life from the taller perspective of mom, cop, lover, enforcer. Usually I jump in the tub with her, being with the kids is always ultimately more soul satisfying (hot water, bubbles and a silly person, the perfect combo). But today after so much fudge, I need to write as she soaks.
I work out my article, which is like a brain teaser. It helps me to solve some writing riddle, it gives my brain a shot of the adult exercise it craves. I finish and send it off and then I am free and fresh to see the bubbles and the fairy skirt, knowing I made a little extra money and now I can run off to my five year old where I am truly rich.
It's the last day of a three week winter break that has included alot of cookie-making, and even more cookie-eating (all done by me). There's some relief in the house with the boys out, a little pocket of extra quiet, a moment to focus. Emma comes to me in the office, naked. She has a box called "Rainbow Ribbon Dress-up" that her Aunt Chris gave her from Maryland. Inside is an elastic band that you put around your waist with ribbons hanging down in a fairy cascade. But first you have to build the fairy ribbon skirt, the whole point of the box is that you make the fairy skirt together.
"Can we make this?" She looks at me with her bobbing blue eyes.
She's already naked because I promised to fill the tub for her. The baby is this time asleep in her crib and I have free hands. I open the box, and she says "ahhh!" at the pretty ribbons in their packages. We look at the instructions together and I see this is going to take awhile to do. Tomorrow morning is school. The baby will be up soon, I have this article to write. I hesitate. But this is the end of Christmas this year, this is all we're getting, and here's my five year old baby, ready for anything fun. Hmm. How can I do it all.
"Well, babe," I say, "Let's do the bath first."
"Okay," she says. The box is put on the desk for later. We head to the bathroom and I remember they got bubble bath for Christmas. Suddenly the bath is going to be exciting. We fill the tub and the bubbles start spreading. She hops in with her long blonde hair. I get back to my computer. She calls me to help her. I go back in and she needs the mirror from the sink so she can prop it up and look at her face with a parade of various bubble beards.
She's entertained in the tub and I run back to finish what I can while the baby sleeps. The rushing to entertain so I can rush to write is kind of a life-stealing scam. You cheat yourself out of living your life so you can write about living your life. But she's there with me, her box on the desk, her naked memory still next to me, her voice as she chatters to the bubbles in the next room. I hear her, I love her, I remember being her, and now I'm on the other side, experiencing the household, the family life from the taller perspective of mom, cop, lover, enforcer. Usually I jump in the tub with her, being with the kids is always ultimately more soul satisfying (hot water, bubbles and a silly person, the perfect combo). But today after so much fudge, I need to write as she soaks.
I work out my article, which is like a brain teaser. It helps me to solve some writing riddle, it gives my brain a shot of the adult exercise it craves. I finish and send it off and then I am free and fresh to see the bubbles and the fairy skirt, knowing I made a little extra money and now I can run off to my five year old where I am truly rich.
