I just got off the phone with my 96-year-old grandma. She was telling me how she hurt herself today. Swimming. She overswam the backstroke and now her back was screaming at her. She was thinking that she probably should skip the gym tomorrow so she could get back to swimming over the weekend. Are you kidding me? She is amazing. I wish I could bottle her energy. Not to be outdone, my husband's 94-year-old grandma, who had BRAIN surgery a few weeks ago is now up and at 'em. Florida's water must be the true fountain of youth.
Earlier today I heard from an old friend with whom I hadn't spoken in months. I love those random chat moments on gmail. Sometimes the internet is a heavenly place. Amidst our playing catch up, this friend asked me how I liked staying at home with my son. I lived with her back in the years that I worked as a big firm lawyer in NY. Work hard, play hard to the extreme. I'm pretty much the polar opposite of that now. Aside from my initial identity crisis at about 3 or 4 months postpartum, I have mostly loved being a SAHM and enjoying my son's fleeting babyhood. It is so very much more exhausting and more thrilling than I could have imagined. Though I still have a little trouble responding to people's questions about when I am going back to work, that's primarily because I have no idea. I will be doing some temporary, part-time work this summer for my old office, which should give me a sense of life as a working mama. I'm most excited about the thought of getting dressed before noon and having dinner waiting for me when I get home--that's the way it works, no?
Mr. Monk's playgroup went to the California Academy of Sciences today. It is a glorious place filled with neon fish, sea dragons and an albino aligator. Needless to say, the babes squealed with delight pretty much the entire time. Here is mine trying to become one with the fish universe.
Definitely a day to hold onto.
And "Footloose" is on tv now. Does life get any better?