2:31 -- Standing Still

At this point, it's merely hours.  Hours until I head back to my coaching position in an elementary school.  Like a heavy door, my maternity leave closes on lazy feedings and naptime workouts, mid-morning Starbucks runs with a sleeping baby and time enough to actually keep house.  The day is here, as I've peeked at the calendar from afar the last few months, just like I knew it would be.

I initialed all baby belongings in preparation for day care.  I packed the diaper bag and my lunch.  I took stock of the galleria to inform my grocery shopping for Reid's meals away from home.  I tried on my favorite ivory sweater with gentle graphite stripes...the one I wear when I'm up in front and I'm nervous.  I fed Grant as often as he expressed interest because come Monday, the suctiony sounds of my pump will replace the mealtime gurgles and coos and feeding on demand will give way to protecting regular slivers of school time that will secure my milk supply.

There's stillness in my heart though. 

In all the moments I snuggle Grant...and gaze into his giant eyes...and feel his body as a comfortable extension of my own, I wish -- just once -- I could freeze time.  Like ice cubes.  This memory in this compartment, and yesterday's memory in the tray preceding.  I freeze: because if I don't, the remaining hours melt into a buzzing alarm and hot, hidden tears while I help load the boys into my husband's car Monday morning and then drive away by myself.

Amidst the sound and fury, there's a job...that really doesn't feel like much of one.  There's a teacher who emailed early last Monday to wish me a happy last week, but also to let me know she's counting the days until I'm back.  There's a classroom I designed myself to make visiting teachers feel like treasured guests during meetings or planning chats because all my favorite pictures, quotes, and books are displayed like they would be in a home office.  There's a vibe in this school that forwards the belief that ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE.  {And, it is.}  There's a professional development series I'm authoring that's centered around fine-tuning our writing workshops in a variety of areas like nudging boy writers, and increasing volume, and implementing continua to guide instruction as each unit progresses.

Today is soccer...and grocery shopping...and laundry...and bedtime routines.  Sunday is church...and cartoons...and family time.  There will be a bed time Sunday night that's much later than anticipated and then before I know it, I'll pull into the school parking lot with no recollection of my commute. 

Until then, despite the errands and task management, I'll be still.  To savor.  And, to freeze.
Just like the Weepies say... 

Write on,

b