I put a governor on my woo woo here. Seriously. I do. You know, like how some U-haul trucks have a built-in governor on the motor so we can only go a certain speed and no faster? They do that for our protection. They know we don’t know how to drive that big rented truck anyway and we’d be a liability if we could go as fast as we wanted on the most stressful day of our year–what with all of our belongings in the rear…on moving day…and we’ve gotta get that truck back by a certain time or we’ll get charged.
To: all the parents of the earth on the day your kids start school in the fall
From: me…today on the day my kids went back to school
We dropped them off, my husband and I. We walked them into their loving classrooms. They were cool. They were fine. They were happy. They knew what to do. Our littlest one started Kindergarten without a hesitation, a misstep, a faltering or a look back. She was born ready for this day. Our oldest sauntered out to play like an old pro. Last year his teacher gave us the best compliment about our son. She said he is on his own form of Valium…that his calmness helps keep the other kids grounded. She said everything is no big deal for him. (I’m sure that is all true at school…but it is a different story at home.)
Today was the first backyard day in the desert. Fall is finally here. We cleaned all day–removed a zillion spider webs, trimmed everything in sight, and hosed it all down. The inside of our house is now fragrant and full of eucalyptus branches in vases. We even made this impromptu outdoor living room. Isn’t that metal gate awesome? I can’t remember the artist’s name—I think he’s from Utah.
We dropped off my son, pretended to the client that we had worked together before, and then we started our day. There are some things I don’t do—don’t like to do. There are some things I think are man’s work and no matter that I am a feminist I don’t want to do certain things and feel absolutely unashamed about that fact. And unscrewing a kitchen full of cabinets with my client’s cheap cordless screwdriver and then walking them to the garage is one of those things. I have done it so many times—but my hired help was there for that reason. For god’s sake—a cordless screwdriver? You know, the kind that is more akin to an electric toothbrush than to a proper drill. I need some torque at the very least not a tiny whining thing stripping each screw head and bouncing about. And who the hell was I kidding? Did I really think I could paint a kitchen with Lu in the baby bjorn on a ladder?
And he came back the next day and finished a job that I alone would have spent probably two weeks doing. And I was grateful.
As for happy endings, my husband did come back. And he’s doing really well. And so are we. Right now he is putting together an Ikea desk for the studio with his beefy corded drill. Amazing what we can do if we have to. We are stronger than we know.