While My Boyfriend Was Sleeping

What I write after Joe and Henry go to bed

Archives for November 2011

The bane of my existence

by 5 Comments

I love that I generated fortune cookie comments in my last post.

So in the spirit of WISHFUL THINKING, I give you the fortune I pulled from a cookie when I was 15 years old. As you can see by the dirt, dust and fuzz, I’ve taped this trifling thing EVERYWHERE over the years: furniture. journals, car dashboards, refrigerator doors, useless math textbooks…

And wouldn’t you know, the goddamn thing has yet to come true.

It taunts me.

—

PS. Holy moly. It just occurred to me NOW that these lucky numbers might mean something. In all the years I’ve obsessed over this piece of paper, I’ve never given the numbers much thought.

So let’s break ’em down now: Joe’s birthday is Dec. 8. The first time I wrote a book that I was proud of was when I was 11 years old. It was for a school project and it spawned a short series of children’s books about a town in which expressions and idioms come true (ie: “It’s raining cats and dogs”). When I was 24, I quit my newspaper job, moved into a bungalow in downtown Sarasota and attempted, but of course never finished, my first novel. I was 25 when I met Joe. He was 34 when we got married.

And then there’s 38. I have no idea what 38 means.

The day Henry had ice cream

by 11 Comments

(I started writing this Tuesday – and then Henry woke from a nap.)

There are a million things about motherhood that are exhausting. But for all of the things that are exhausting there are an equal number of things that are beautiful.

Sometimes the exhausting ones cloud the beautiful ones. Such is the way of life I suppose.

So right now, at 4:45 in the afternoon, when I’ve got work piled high on my plate, when Henry is down for an afternoon nap, when I should do be doing something more productive with my time…

like dishes, laundry, journalism

…marinating the chicken breast I’m grilling for dinner.

When I should be doing that and then some, I’m doing this instead:

Tipping my hat to Henry, to the baby who is well on his way to six months old, who is already so strong and bursting with personality.

When he falls asleep in my arms I count the tiny blue veins in his eyelids. They’re subtle, but when you notice them, they look like fireworks petering out in the night sky.

In these quiet moments, I try to picture the man he’s going to grow up to be.

And then I get hung up on the “man” part.

I’ve been told it happens fast.

So for all the moments when I could or should be doing something else, I’m going to do my best to do this instead:

be calm, be happy, be grateful, be easy.

[Read more…]