The other day, Eleanor woke me up saying that she “had a good feeling this morning” … when I asked her why, she said “Because I had good dreams last night!” When I inquired further, she elaborated for me.
“I dreamed about my children.”
“How many did you have?”
“One-two-three-four-five-six. Six children. They love me.”
(Just to clarify:) “Are the mommy and daddy’s children or Eleanor’s children?”
“Eleanor’s children! I the mommy!”
“And they love you!”
“Yes yes. It’d be so wonderful.”
This morning on the marsh:
This is a special week. It’s Jeff’s last week at his office job. Next week, he comes home to work for himself again. Over the last year, he has worked hard to transform his business (our studio, We Are Charette) from a hobbling fledgeling to a sure-footed adolescent — not without growing pains but certainly on its way to maturity. It only took a few weeks for him to realize he didn’t want to work for someone else. It took about 6 months to figure out what to do about it. And it took about 3 months of working double-time (his 40-hour workweek plus nights and weekends developing our business) to get We Are Charette up and running while still getting consistent checks from work. It’s been exhilarating, it’s been exhausting. I know the road ahead of us will not be easy, but I also know it will be made much easier by having a spouse that is not completely consumed by work. I got so used to handling 98% of the childcare that yesterday — when he came home early and took June for a couple hours — it was a revelation, I was shocked and elated to experience the real help of another parent. When he came home, I threw my arms around him and thanked him, and I think he was just as shocked to experience real appreciation. Not that I haven’t appreciated his work over the last months. Well, correction: I have NOT appreciated it. I’ve resented it, I’ve begrudged it, I’ve rolled my eyes and sighed on many nights when our dinners got cold, when I held a crying June while trying to get Eleanor to bed, when I got up for the umpteenth time to put Eleanor back in bed, etc etc etc. But the entire time, I’ve definitely admired him. That’s made it all pretty effortless. When I would look up from my grindstone, there he’d be, with his nose placed firmly against his own. His commitment to a future that he’d be closer and more present made the tough time getting there worthwhile. And that future starts this Friday at quittin’ time.
and the stockings are recently made, too. Capital E and J for me and Jeff, lowercase for El and Junie.
