The Life of Bon: Thirteen minutes

Tuesday, June 06, 2017

Thirteen minutes

I just put cookies in the oven and in thirteen minutes the timer will go off and I will eat those cookies.  So thirteen minutes is how long I have to write.

I feel this need to get back to blogging.  To get back to writing.  But the days pass and I don't make it a priority.  I could say I'm busy.  Because I am.  But the truth is that if I really really wanted to find time to blog I would.  So maybe I haven't wanted to.

It is 7:56 pm and today was my last day of work.  I am on summer vacation.  It is needed.  I don't know if I could have survived another day.  I mean, of course I could have.  I'm being dramatic.  But I really don't know if I could have.

Right now, at this very moment, my students are graduating.  I am supposed to be there.  I emailed my boss and asked if I could miss it.  A 14 hour work day with a four month old babe at home didn't sound that fun.  And do they really need all 100 teachers to sit in black robes around the stadium and sit through graduation year after year? In any case, I think my principal sensed that I'm at my work/home life breaking point.  So he said go ahead and stay home.  I'm grateful for that.  He has been a wonderful boss to me the past four years.  He is leaving now.  Being transferred to another school and I feel sad and nostalgic.  He has been so good to my family.  He hired me and then a year later hired Greg.  When Greg suddenly quit (literally went home on a Thursday and never went back) my/our boss was so understanding.  To Greg's email he responded, "Life is messy.  Put your family first."  That was in September.  That Christmas he gave our family $300.

I will miss my boss.  But my new boss used to be my vice principal and she is absolutely fantastic.  A smart and fiery redhead who gets things does.  I'm excited for the changes.

It is summer now.  The days are suddenly long and hot.  How did summer get here so quickly?  What took it so long?

People ask me "do you have plans for summer?"  No.  No plans.  Catch my breath.  Plan more than one day ahead.  Remember what it's like to be me in between endless feedings and rockings and bedtimes and grading papers and 7 am haggling with students over five extra credit points.  You don't really make summer plans when you're so busy just getting to the next day.  January- May is a total blur to me.  Last thing I remember I was teaching an ACT prep in the middle of January.  I woke up and it's June.  A regular old Rip Van Winkle.

I suspect I was/am dealing with some postpartum depression.  It feels mostly better.  Except for on days when it doesn't.  So I put one foot in front of the other.  I go to bed early and feel better in the mornings.  I drink a lot of coke and eat at least one cookie a day.  This isn't really a time to be mean to my body or to expect my love handles to quickly disappear.  It isn't a time to force myself into a size 4 swimsuit or demand that my pre pregnancy jeans fit by August.  It's a time to be nice to my body and to my mind.  We've been through a lot.

Hugh is getting easier.  And then sometimes he is hard again.  But the trend is toward easier.  On Sunday night I rocked him, held him, bounced him for two hours trying to get him to go to sleep.  Then Greg tried for an hour.  Finally after three hours of fierce cajoling, Hugh slept.  We were exhausted.  Mad.  Flabbergasted.  Tonight he started nursing and fell asleep in five minutes.  He's been asleep ever since.  There is no science to babies.  Just chaos.

As I write this, June is self soothing on her bedroom floor.  She flew through naptime but still is refusing to go to sleep tonight.  She's exhausted but refuses sleep.  So she's crying through the door.  A futile hope that Greg or I will come to her rescue and tell her she does not, in fact, have to go to bed, but can instead stay up all night eating popcorn and watching Sofia.  A toddler's wildest dream.

The timer is beeping and the cookies are done.  I'll see you tomorrow?

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