I’m not going to dwell too much on my return to work this Friday for the first time since before F was born. The truth is, I have so much work to do that I can’t really fathom getting it all done without working today. I’d just be carving it out of the weekend in some other chunk.
But as I get ready this morning I hear the little one in the baby monitor. She’s singing her ABC’s and a bit of “Let’s Go Fly a Kite” from Mary Poppins. She’s talking to her bed mates – I’m sure they are lined up in a row, staring at her with rapt attention.
I will also carve out other chunks of time this weekend to spend with just her, at a slower pace, listening and watching and playing. But I know my heart will ache a bit mid morning when I’m rushing from one task to another, wishing I was holding her in my lap, listening to her talk and talk and talk. Because no matter what the two of us found together as we tromped through the city on our Fridays, the one constant we found was just how much we enjoyed each others company in the process.
