I may be cresting that cusp sooner than I’d anticipated.
Remember this? I was astounded when I didn’t receive an interview in response to my job query. I just received a very lovely email letting me know that they’d put out the job listing because they were so busy, but because they were so busy, they’d not been able to look at the applicants until now. And my letter was “intriguing,” and am I still available?
Let’s not sugarcoat this: I’ll still have ample opportunity to fall on my face. It’s not time to count chickens (or as Chickadee says, “count Chickadees! HAHAHAHA!”). But it’s a step. It’s a piece of the puzzle that puts me back together, reminds me that I do have something to offer that the right people are going to recognize. Eventually.
This morning I warned the kids that I’m still not feeling well, and they were remarkably good for me. They asked if they could finally break the wishbone we’ve been saving since my parents’ visit; I said sure. I explained the process and lined up their little fingers and commanded them to hold their wishes in their minds. Both little faces screwed up tight with the effort… I counted to three… they pulled… and Chickadee won. Monkey began to cry. Before I could intervene, Chickadee had pulled his head to her chest and was stroking his hair, crooning, “It’s okay, buddy, do you want your wish? You can have it. I don’t need mine.” She kissed away his tears and then whispered in his ear. Before I could hide the tears that had sprung to my eyes, he’d clambered up onto her, piggyback, and they were off, giggling “giddyup, horsey!”
Sometimes I think I’m parenting all wrong, and then sometimes my children take my breath away. Especially Chickadee. The child who was once so broken is now the most nurturing soul I know. If she can be so transformed, how can any of us say “I can’t”?
I’m hoping again. I’m dreaming again. I’m trusting myself. It’s so much easier to assume the worst and stop wanting. I’d nearly forgotten what it feels like to feel possible. Sure, I’m just darting out to touch it, briefly, and then running back to my familiar haven of disappointment and resignation… but I’m developing a taste for more.
I’m waking up.
Wow, this story made me cry. Your children sound wonderful, and not just when they are being as perfect as they are in this instance.
Best of luck with the job! You do have a lot to offer, and hopefully they will recognize it.
It’s great to see things looking up for you! I will, of course, have every single finger I have (that would be, umm….. 10) crossed for you. I will wish and hope and pray and do the “Mir Employment Raindance” if that’s what it takes! There might not be a Mir Employment Raindance yet, but just you wait… I got all kinds of moves! ;) Good luck.
And Chickadee made my heart swell today :) Thank her for me.
2005 is all about Mir, Chickadee, and Monkey! :)
*shaking Mir*
Please wake up and KNOW that good changes are just around the corner and I will aks Rockstar Mommy for the steps to that dance so I can also do one for you.
You are so blessed and having a Chickadee and Monkey proves it.
I love it when my kids do stuff like that. I hope this is the right job for you, not just any old job, but one that will fit your schedule and financial needs and will be something you enjoy. Fingers crossed. Innovative letters will get you everywhere.
You are doing such an awesome job with your children! Thank you for sharing this story.
I’m finally de-lurking, to thank you for sharing such a gloriously heart-warming moment with us. This is the second poignant entry I’ve read in five minutes, that inspired me to de-lurk in both instances. Now I feel guilt at remaining silent, in all the time I’ve been enjoying your space. Your site is positively aces, and you deserve to know it. I’ll do better at not lurking in future. Take care! -Serena
Yeah for Chickadee and YEAH for you, hoping all goes in your favor. We all find you irresistible, how could they not? Funny, when B actually does try to comfort N, in those rare moments, she also calls him Buddy. Keep us posted!!!!
Anybody that doesn’t find you “intriguing” should be beat senseless with a MAXIglide.
Speaking only for myself, of course.
And Chickadee brought tears to my eyes, too. In a perfect world there would be plenty of wishes for everyone to have theirs.
I’m over here doing the Happy Snoopy Dance for you right now.
What do you mean, it’s a bit premature?
No way, baby…
That was very nicely said, Mir. Has anyone ever told you that should be writing? Oh, that’s right. You ARE. And doing a damned fine job.
Wow, that’s just all I can say about this post, wow (okay that is borrowed from Kevin Henkes’ “Lily’s Purple Plastic Purse.”) Great news on hearing about that job possibility, and even greater news about Chickadee (or, as my husband would say, Chickadeedeedeedee, like the bird itself.) BTW, did you know that there’s a magazine for 6-9 year olds called Chickadee? Sorry, I don’t know of one called Monkey. I hope all goes well with this job prospect.
Oh. MAN. That’s the sweetest thing ever.
YIPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Awww!
Sometimes children redeem themselves, don’t they? I only wish it were more often, personally :-)
Good luck on the job part. I’m sure someone will recognize your awesomeness!
Very sweet. You can do it. I know that about you. Know it.