We said, "Fine, fine. It's hard, but we are doing it." It was the kind of answer you give your social worker when they have a pad of paper and pen.
The truth is this:
Every day I have a Calgon moment where I really wish I could be whisked away to a quiet, less stinky, kid-free place. And every day I have a Kodak moment wherein I wonder how I got so lucky.
I'm working on turning more Calgon moments into Kodak moments. Someday I will be able to laugh when I come into a room and Birdie has spilled a bag of rice with half of it stuck to her face and arms. Someday. Not yet.
There are a ton of things I really suck at. I know because I keep a running list in the lower left quadrant of my brain. Which is a whole other issue that I will tackle someday with a therapist. But there is one thing I am beginning to master.
This I know for sure: I can't hold the oxygen for everyone else to breath if I am suffocating.
When the call came that Henry was born, I declared to a few of my close friends that Secondsister Jewelry would be shutting down for a year or two, maybe three. There just wasn't time for such things anymore.
Secondsister Jewelry shut down for about four weeks. And then I came home from Utah with my new baby and the very next day I went into my studio and began to breath again.
Everyday I go into my blue studio and suck in my own brand of oxygen, and when I am nice and high I come out, and hug my kids and kiss my husband and all is right with the world. For at least ten minutes or so.
Sometimes I have a helper with sticky fingers with me in my studio. She's rather bossy and demanding, but I put up with her because I like the idea of having my daughter grow up watching me do the things I love.
It's the one thing I think I'm pretty good at and I'm going to make damn sure she's good at it too.