Mom's Trying to Work

An excerpt from the not-a-journal a couple of weeks ago…

Taking the kids to school is often anticlimactic for me. After the flurry and noise and rush of the morning, I’m left in a quiet car or a quiet house. This is a lovely thing, but always surprising and often disorienting. I pat my pockets like an old man looking for the glasses on his forehead, wondering just exactly what I’ve misplaced or might have forgotten. Surely SILENCE isn’t the culmination of cereal, showers, toothbrushing, shoe-tying, lunch-packing, don’t-be-lating?

“Mom’s going to work” means that she can be found hunched under her desk lamp in the corner, scribbling in a notebook or squinting at the Mac in between loads of laundry and loaves of bread.