It's official. I'm a full-time writer and mom.
The first couple days were a little bizarre, though. Last Friday (officially my first day), Charles tweaked something in his back, and I was too lazy to drive the 30 minutes each way (TWICE) to take Zoe to school, so they were both home with me. And Monday, Zoe had a terrible cough, so I kept her home again.
And let me tell you: family time does not equal work time for me.
But that's ok. One of my major goals for this year (and this writing experiment) is to increase my own patience, so I'm working hard on that. On not getting frustrated when things don't immediately go my way. On not fussing at Zoe for stalling (which she does ALL THE TIME and for EVERYTHING).
I think that's important for this stay-home thing. I finally have the time to do things RIGHT instead of just FAST. That's huge for me. Yesterday, the first day I was alone, I found myself rushing around, trying to do ALL THE THINGS in a single day. If I want to sustain any amount of work over a long period of time, that is not the way to do it.
So I'm working on it.
It's maybe already starting to pay off.
On Monday, Zoe was feeling much better by the afternoon (Those coughs? They're the worst at night and early in the morning....), and I was feeling edgy, so we decided to go for a bike ride/walk (she rides, I walk).
Used to be I'd poke and prod at her to keep her moving forward the whole time so I get the optimum benefits from the walk. Right? Because it was probably my only time to exercise for a span of days, so I wanted the most out of it.
But on Monday I held onto the thought: Tuesday I'd have time. Tuesday I'd be on my own. Tuesday I could do all the things I needed to do.
So when, five minutes into our walk, Zoe stopped and squealed, instead of fussing at her I asked what was up.
"A wish flower!"
(Most people call them dandelions, gone to seed. My child calls them wish flowers.)
She hopped off her bike, and picked up the wish flower.
"I wish to go to the park."
She blew, and the fluff flew away on the breeze.
We continued on our way.
"Mommy," she said, after a few minutes without dandelions. "If you see a wish flower, will you tell me? I'm looking but I don't see any."
I rolled my eyes. I did. That's the old Leah.
So I fussed at myself instead of Zoe, and forced a smile. "Of course, Sweetie," I said. But I didn't mean it...yet.
We kept going, for a long time without wishes.
Then, I saw one. And another. Five, actually, in a little clump.
"Wish flowers!" I squealed. Not sure when something changed, but it did. I was happy to see the potential for wishes.
Zoe hopped off her bike and ran to the patch of wishes, waiting to be made. She picked the first one.
"I wish for ice cream!"
Then a second. "I wish for a jar of mustard." (Not making that up...she really said that.)
I giggled, and walked to her. "May I have a wish?"
"Of course, Mommy!" She handed me a flower.
"I wish for...." I thought for a minute, then went for broke. "I wish for world peace."
Zoe giggled. "Me, too." She blew the fluff from the next flower.
"Let's find some more."
I said that. I did. And I meant it.
It took us almost an hour and a half to walk and ride two miles that afternoon. But that was fine. We made so many more wishes.
Zoe: I wish for ketchup.
Me: I wish to be able to support us, at least a little, with my writing.
Zoe: I wish for Mommy to sell lots of books.
Me: I wish for all Zoe's dreams to come true.
Zoe: I wish for cake!
Some of our wishes may come true. Others may not. But that's ok. We had a lot of fun making them.