A friend of mine is currently on maternity leave and posts a lot of pictures on Instagram of her adventures. It makes me think of my year on leave with my brand new baby. It was a wonderful year, though at the end of it I was very much ready to go back to work.
The time I relished even more was the two years that I was contracting from home and she wasn’t in school. We chose our own schedule, we went on adventures. We had days when we decided to just pick up and go to a museum or the beach. I wouldn’t give that time back for anything. All of the things we have done together – just the two of us, as a family, with my mother.
She turns 8 tomorrow, and she’s a great kid. We don’t get as must time as we used to, but we still do alright with adventure. I’d love to have the time and money to do anything and everything she wants to do – but I’m also happy to teach her that sometimes things just don’t happen when you want them to.
She’s got big plans, this kid. She wants to be an Olympian, she wants to win the Nobel Prize in chemistry. I’m not sure whether those dreams will change or stick around as she grows older. She’s a great reader, she’s strong and smart, she’s getting braver. She’s a goof and loves to laugh. I’m very glad to say that she’s usually happy, and when she’s not she talks to us.
Obviously I’m worried about her growing up. I’m worried about the whole world at the moment, but I know we’re raising her the best way we can and that she will be the best person she can be. I can ask nothing more. She knows that we are proud of her, she knows that we love her no matter what, of these things I am sure.