The babe is napping. There is no telling how long this will last and there are always a million things I want to get to as soon as I have my arms free. But lately I'm resolved: the very first thing I will do with the very first free hour of the day during a morning nap is write. I'll write about what I'm thankful for. I'll write for my book. I'll just write.
This has been a really long month. It is Clint's last month of graduate school. The very last two papers are due on Monday, and then we're free. It makes me breathe a little easier and deeper just thinking about it. There have been a lot of papers and stress around lately, and not much sleep. While Clint works away at getting everything done and getting the bills paid, I hold down the fort. I wake with the baby every few hours through the night. She has recently decided that she likes stretching out in mommy and daddy's bed a whole lot more than her own crib. I make our meals (no finals season frozen pizza here folks! I wish...), clean dishes and laundry and floors, spend silly amounts of time on the computer. And I wait for what is next.
I don't know what is next. I don't have any idea what it will look like or what its texture will be. I know it probably means moving apartments, maybe cities. I know it probably means Clint will work more hours, either at his current jobs or at a new one. I know it means that I can't sign up for my Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) shares yet, because I'm not sure where we'll be or how I'll scrape together the lump sum down payments. I know what is next will probably involve all the paperwork that Clint and I hate and have been putting off until we "have more time."
But in the mean time, I have a book to write. I've been thinking that I should give you all a few little sneak peeks at it so you can get as excited as I am. I'm pretty darn excited. I read through old pages the other day and realized that I have about 43,000 words written so far.
Yes, you read that right. Forty-three THOUSAND. That's a lot. Almost half-way to my goal, in fact.
I had been feeling really discouraged lately about what I have, but this past weekend I got two gifts: I got to see an old friend--one of those friends who knew me in college, so I'm pretty sure that nothing I can do will ever make her stop being my friend, because if so, she would have already stopped--and I got word from my literary agent (also a great friend) that she's sent the book proposal to an editor who she thinks is a really, really good fit for this project. Both of these things cleared the fog I've been stumbling around in--a fog of hard work, but also of feeling really low, small, insignificant and useless.
We all have those fogs, don't we. I think this one was brought on by baby-exhaustion, recurring (though minor) illness, and the loneliness that comes at the end of a degree when a lot of your friends have moved on or moved away and you feel kinda stuck, left behind and over-educated for the job you're currently working in (though I do think post-graduate degrees can only enhance your ability to parent: they're a signal that you never want to quit learning, which is apparently the right attitude to have in parenting, because just when I've got a handle on something, it changes).
Thank goodness for clarity. And for childcare at the Morning Bible Study. And for naptime silence.
But most of all for friends who remind us who we really are.