So a thing about stay-at-home parenthood is, there’s no time to process. You can feel all sorts of ways, but you pretty much have to keep it together because of the tiny humans. So when J found out yesterday that, though she was their top choice, she didn’t get the job (because they’re not filling it right now), we muddled through with a smaller reaction than our disappointment warranted. Because of the tiny humans.
Enter: my office hours today. Which, because my children were not with me, and because (thankfully) no one came, I cried straight through.
And enter: my wretched listening skills when a friend came out to me and I focused instead on why she isn’t out to her parents. (You know: instead of saying “Yay! Yay for the gay!!”)
And enter: an absolute bitter-fest of a text exchange with a wildly patient friend about how much injustice there is in this country and how unfair unfair unfair things feel some times.
And So Much Crying for the one tiny hour when my babies were both asleep (even if one was asleep on me).
And when my mom said, “well of course you’re upset, baby, you’ve probably been really holding it together for J!” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry more because: um. I hadn’t. Poor J.
Then I took the boys to watch a construction site near J’s work. We’ve been watching it for over a year and it’s nearly complete. And it’s going to house something that really should change the world but really won’t change the world. But those construction workers did change the world because: there was no building there and now there’s a building. And stairs. And sidewalks. And interesting ones at that. And it was sunny but autumnal. And I remembered that I’m not classist and therefore don’t have to lose my shit if we stay broke awhile longer or if neither of us ever ends up with a fancy job. And I thought: B could grow up to be a construction worker and really make things and that would be AMAZING. And in between feeling like an ass for being such a crazy lady with my friends all day, I felt SO GRATEFUL that I don’t feel that way most of the time. Entitled. Deprived. Wronged. Because even though there’s plenty about what I was feeling that’s true, feeling it wasn’t helping.
What did help was all the chalk art we did on the sidewalk near the construction site when J got off work.
And the college kid who played his harmonica for B.
And the fact that my friends will probably forgive me.
And when J insisted we go out for tacos instead of home to cook.
And when Ages and Ages’ “Divisionary” came on at the taco place and I asked them to turn it up and they did. And when B heard it his face made clear his utter believe that the world is MAGICAL.
And it is. It’s unjust too, and it’s unfair as hell, but people build buildings where there didn’t used to be buildings. It’s magical.
She still should have gotten the job.
(Also magical: the Bluebird in this Gayby rainbow romper passed down to us from the moms over at Insert Metaphor. Which is to say also magical: GAYBIES!)