So I guess I wrote this a month ago - okay, let's be honest, at least two months ago, when I was working on the diss. I found it again, cleaning up my computer... I thought of this again tonight as I was nursing Stella before bed... getting all sappy because I'm leaving for an interview for three days and this is the first time I will have been gone this long from my daughter since the day she was born. Mixed feelings, to say the least... part of me is REALLY happy that I get a break. (Although an on-campus job interview is HARDLY a break). But I am a bit excited to sleep in a bed all to myself without anyone to wake me up until I'm supposed to get up (although the sad fact of the matter is that I'll probably wake up twice anyway because that little girl has got me TRAINED!) And even though I had a freak out earlier in the week (see blog post below titled "BM") I'm still excited about the prospect about a job. a REAL FREAKING JOB after being a student for so long. I'm ready to be on a real payroll again, I'm ready to stop being a student (and god knows I can't go back to school anymore, so there will be no chance of having to do any of this again). So that is all very exciting.
But part of me... yes, maybe a bigger part of me... is kinda hoping that Steve gets the teaching job he's applying for this week and I can have a year off. Oh yes. a year off. Man, doesn't that sound nice? Where the only "student" I have to answer to is Stella? I could live with that. Driven me - always career-oriented me, always doing, multi-tasking me... could kinda get into being "Mom."
.....
anyway, here's the blog post from months ago...
So I’m sitting in the coffee shop today trying to work on my diss (yes! I am! I’m trying!) - Stella is at home with the babysitter, and I hear this little voice behind me… I turn, and it’s a mom and her daughter – she has a yogurt and a spoon – the mom has a coffee/tea/whatever. She has brownish/blond hair to her shoulders – it’s thin and wispy around her face… and she has the sweetest little voice as she talks and talks to her mom (she’s maybe 3?), her mother just smiling and letting her talk. And I get so choked up it’s unbelievable and I just want to rush home and hug Stella…
I’m excited for her to be that age – I’m excited to see her get to that point – I can’t wait to understand what she’s saying, to go to coffee shops and sit with her and talk to her… to watch her grow. You know, although I know she’s a part of our lives, there are still some days when I think, are they going to come and get her now? Are they going to take her back? Am I just an extended babysitter? (not that I know who “they” is…) and then I realize, no, we get to keep her. “They” aren’t coming. And as scary as hell that is, I’m excited for it. I’m excited for the little being she is becoming, even if she is, as my grandmother would say, an independent cuss. For I wouldn’t want her any other way.
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