Today is the type of day where I just feel like sitting down and letting words fall out of me.
This is officially the first "snow day" of the year. And boy did I need it. I mean, I didn't really need it, but I did really need it, you know? Going back to work has been both wonderful and sad at the same time. I don't want to go back to staying home, but I also find myself bitter of the 50 minutes I spend in my car everyday. Perhaps that is the control freak in me. Who knows.
I am finally reading the book, The Lowland by my favorite author, Jhumpa Lahiri. It was a book one of my friends gave me as a gift when they found out Unaccostumed Earth was my favorite book in the history of ever. It's taken me two years to pick it up. Part of me was afraid I wouldn't love it with all my heart. I do love it. I love her words. I wish I could create just one thing as beautiful as her writing.
When I first came back from Northern Ireland my dream job was to work in a bakery. Not to own a bakery, but to knead dough and throw together pastries - homemade croissants and pop tarts with preserves from my garden. I wanted to be the worker that unlocked the doors at 3 am and clocked out at 10. It was a dream I quickly forgot as the year got away from me and it seemed impossible to live on a part-time hourly salary while still allowing my other half to do what he loves and also paying for the education I insisted on getting. All of the sudden I want that again and it fills the thoughts in my days. An obsession.
Sometimes I love my kids so much that it hurts my heart. These are times when I'm not consumed with a clean house or with fixing dinner. Times when everyone has frozen in a moment that surrounds me. Bedtime is the biggest contributor. Saying their prayers and kissing me goodnight. The tightening in my chest feels like it could suffocate me as I shoo away feelings of dread and despair. I can't stand to live in fear of losing a single one of them. I don't understand how people move on after a tragedy. I pray I never understand.