Because I missed Global Hand Washing Day
(I’ll know for next year. . It’s Oct 15th.)
When you are a writer you usually write because you harbor a love for writing. I love pulling out a pen and paper and listening to the scratch as the words tumble from my mind through my hand and appear onto paper. The clicking of the keyboard is also gently relaxing as I watch the words in my head magically appear onto the screen in front of me.
It would be a dream to get paid to write in a way I could make a living, but since I cannot currently commit to this dream full time (as alas bills still have to get paid) I write when I can as much as time allows as a hobby. Despite what a lot of people may think although I try to write as much fresh content as possible for this blog, as of yet it does not actually earn me any money. So I submit my writing to other places here and there. This past week I earned a slot of acceptance from one of my submittals, which brought me great joy. This was almost immediately followed up with yet another “Thanks for your submissions and interest in our site! Great posts, but not a great fit for us right now. Sorry about that!” Rejection. It stings a little, not as much as the first ever, but I don’t allow it to stop me.
I will keep writing and I will find the right fit, eventually.
Perseverance is a must. When you do something you love you somehow become whole again, and I like being whole. . .so the words will continue to tumble until I find them a permanent home.
When you’re a working mom you are doused almost daily with guilt. Guilt that you leave your child with someone so you can go to work. Guilt that you don’t spend enough time with your child. Guilt that you leave your child with a babysitter so you can have some adult time. Guilt that you set you child in front of the television for 30 minutes so you can make dinner. It pummels you from all corners and some days are so much worse than others. . .
The other day I had a heavy workload day and towards the end of the day I look up only to have an “oh shit” moment. It was 4:11, I need to shut down and haul butt out of the building. I usually leave work at 4 so I can pick up my child no later than 5pm. I leave hurriedly only to be reminded by the gauges on my car that I’m going to have to stop and get gas on my way between work and daycare. The whole way driving to pick my child up I am riddled with feelings of guilt. I don’t like leaving him at school any longer than I have to. I should have been paying better attention to the clock. Traffic just plain sucks the whole way and I finally wind up at his daycare about 5:15.
Already riddled with guilt I step into his classroom only to see his crying face through the glass door leading to the playground. My heart crumbles and I pick him up as soon as I make my way outside. I take inventory of the situation. Not even a handful of kids are outside and the teacher is not one of his normal teachers. She leaves her post talking to the other teacher from across playground gate separating the older kids from the younger to make sure I know he has been “fussy” for about the last 20 minutes or so (The time I normally would have picked him up by.) as she lets me back in the building. Another teacher is inside cleaning and lets me know she had been sitting outside with him holding him while he fussed until she was summoned away to begin her cleaning duties. This does not bring me any comfort.
My heart is heavy. I hug my child and carry him out to the car. We take our time getting in the car while. When I slide into the drivers seat I fight back tears and clear my throat to get rid of any sadness. I am angry that the teacher was just standing around chatting and not making an effort to comfort my child. I am so angry I wonder if this situation warrants an email to the director. . . I am also feeling guilty I left work late and picked him up late. I hate the barrage of feelings that are bombarding me from all directions.
We get home and cuddle and play and do a lot of his favorite crazy rambunctious things to take our mind off the roughness of the afternoon. My husband assures me that things like this will happen on occasion and I cannot let the feelings control me. Just enjoy the time we do have together instead. So we do. We squash away those feelings of guilt and flood our hearts instead with joy and togetherness.
I’ve complained about the stairs leading up to the back of our house for years. We made do with what came with the house, but it just wasn’t cutting it for me. The landing hadn’t been built high enough to actually go into the house without taking a step up and being the wonderfully graceful person I am I just couldn’t handle it. My husband fixed that after we moved in by adding an extra step. This worked okay until we had a toddler underfoot. Trying to get in through the back door with an arm full of groceries, while making sure your toddler doesn’t fall off the small landing or step while the dog tries to plow you down to get out of the house was becoming too much of a chore. I requested to my husband new stairs and a landing and a week later I am so incredibly happy.
My husband is a Master Electrician by trade but enjoys playing with wood building for us when he is able. He explained to me his plan, which I understood fairly well (even without him sketching it out for me like he usually does). He bought most of his materials on Friday evening and on Saturday morning he started right away with tearing out the old steps and landing. It was in sad shape. He then set to getting things level for the new landing. Building the landing is not hard at all, but making sure everything is level and square is quite a chore. By Saturday evening, the landing was finished with the exception of one board that had to be laid and the second railing. It was coming along beautifully. Sunday evening led to the completion of the stairs. Now all we need is a stair railing and a few finishing
touches to turn our new landing into perfection.
I am so incredibly thankful to have a husband who can work with his hands, and I am so grateful when I get to help him with these projects. (Which is not terribly easy having to pause and chase around a little person, but so incredibly worth it.)