Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Work

Tonight at dinner Liam said, apropos of nothing I could fathom: "Mommy, do you know what I used to think you did at work all day?"

"What did you think?"

"I used to think that you were at your desk and you moved a lever back and forth all day."  (Imagine Liam, in his chair, holding both hands out in front of him and pushing them out and back vigorously, like he is rapidly operating a stubborn railway switch or something.)

"Well, what do you think I do now?"

"Oh, you know, you read your email, and type on your computer, and talk on your telephone, and go to meetings."

That about covers it.  Although days like today the lever idea doesn't sound too bad.  Imagine how cute my upper arms would look in sundresses?

How I love that child and what a privilege it is to see him unfold. 

He had a big day today, one of the other school parents, a neighbor, brought him home from school because I was at a meeting for work and couldn't be here to pick him up and turn him over to the late-afternoon babysitter like I usually do.  His first time ever going somewhere with someone who is not mother, auntie, or grandmother/grandfather.  Ever.  He was so very nervous about it and he did so very well. 

He needs a lot of reinforcement to make sure he knows exactly how it will work.  For a week we have been reviewing: Mrs. G will take you home, Kiley (the babysitter) will be here, Mommy will be home for dinner just like a regular day.  But if I can help him prepare and work through his fears ahead of time, the actual event can be a non-event.  Worth remembering. 

Pouring rain here all of a sudden, just buckets. 

1 comment:

Kate said...

The lever thing made me laugh!

Sometimes that is EXACTLY WHAT IT FEELS LIKE
and that is pretty funny.

I also think of bailing out a small leaky tippy boat, but hey, I'm projecting now.

About your epiphany-- great insight into preparation and non-eventing. Smart smart.

As I have a million times, I wish you were closer so we could bundle up on a porch, drink tea, and listen to the rain.

with love,
Kate