The Beauty of Part-Time

This morning Mark and I were in the bathroom together while Sadie was writing the grocery list (thank you St. Valentine, as I can't tell you how many times she has said "How do you spell cupcake? We need to get more of those so I am putting those on the list!... How do you spell chocolate?..."). I was wearing my Lululemon running pants and a sports bra top. Mark was in a suit.

"Casual day at the office dear?" says dear husband.
"No, its Wednesday, its my part time day so I am not working this morning." I reply.
"Lucky you!" he says.
"Well, I pretty much only get to drop Sadie off to school, get in my work out, get Sadie's bike tire fixed and maybe grab Daisy some more food at the store, and then I have to be at work. Its no vacation." I say.
"I would love to do that today. Sounds like a great morning to me!" he replies.

And as I sit here now, cooling down from a 6 mile run in the sunshine... I realize, it really is a great day. And I am lucky.

When I first went part time, I had these dreams that the house would have a whole new level of color coded organization. I would have these to-do lists on fancy modern looking post-its and I would check things off with red sharpie pens that would always be right where I left them.  I would write notes to friends and mail them off, letting them know how much they mean to me and apologizing for not keeping in touch so well as I worked my tail-end off as a lawyer for a decade, then insisted they all come play bridesmaid to me when I got married while most of them were popping out children and thus, popping out of the trim dresses I required them to wear, and then demanded their attention when I had my own child at 37 and couldn't figure out what to do with an infant. All these things were going to come together. I was going to have fresh flowers on the kitchen table instead of a glue stick, a tennis ball complete with Daisy slobber, and two sippie cups from who knows when. I was going to have both time and energy.

None of those things have happened. Though, thanks to Mark and Tyler, there are fresh flowers on the kitchen table, the island, and in the dining room!  But the house is still a mess. I still haven't reached out to my friends with notes, but instead have dialogues with them in my mind as I am going to bed, or going for a run.

But two things have happened, and as I sit here now, I know that they are far more important than an organized house. First, my daughter is spectacular. Yesterday the nanny left me a note about their great day, complete with Sadie singing a song that she made up with a refrain "Believe in the Lord, believe int he Lord."  The teacher told me this morning that Sadie has been singing it all week. I said "Is that a problem, I mean is she distracting others?"  "Absolutely not!" she said. They are all about singing, all about Joy, all about the Lord there.  My daughter appears to have been "zonked by the Holy Spirit" as my mother used to say. She is happy, she is well behaved, she is inquisitive, she is thoughtful.  She reflects the personality of her happy nanny, and her happy parents. I could want for nothing more.

And the second thing, I get some me-time. I get my exercise in. I get those endorphins. I am slowly losing the 10 pounds that I have wanted to lose for nearly 4 years. And I get some time with Daisy, who won't be with us forever.  And I call Mark a lot more to say "I love you sweetheart" onto his voicemail. And a lot less to say "I am so stressed and I hate my job and why can't I get anything done anymore."

Life is good.