And Nicholas and baby Zooey and I will be moving. Our lease begins June 1, and we will be moving shortly before, as long as we get approval to put things in the apartment a few days early. Today I am recovering from a nasty illness and packing up books. The boxes are all lined up like little soldiers underneath our tall countertop separating kitchen from living room, and as I look around, I think I might just miss this place a little. We have some very fond and ridiculous memories stored here, in these counters and walls and windows.
But I think our new apartment will hold just as many nice memories for us--more, even. We will have little Zooey Michaela there, and she will come home to that apartment, not this one, and that will be our home for a year. Even more time than we will have spent here at this place. My heart does still ache a little for this place, though. It was our first home, where we learned so much about each other, and have had so many disastrous dinners and mistakes...many of them mine...and where Nicholas set up our very first Christmas tree, and learned that we are living on love.
Enough sappy stuff. (: Time to pack the boxes! And have some chicken minestrone soup. (:
21.4.10
The Play.
It feels like hot candle wax is pent up inside my face. That's about how this head-cold feels. Uncomfortable. But it will be over soon enough.
We finished our closing show last night. I hadn't realized how much of a creative outlet it had become for me until today, when I corrected my thoughts, reminding myself that I didn't have play practice tonight or tomorrow night, either, for that matter.
Instead, I am gearing up for a whole new life. Motherhood. Continuing in the role of wife. Living in a small town, rather than a big city. Having a car again? I'm not sure I know how to drive anymore! Staying home with our little girl, Zooey, and cooking dinner for my husband when he gets home from work. A lot less out-and-about...just as busy? Maybe. Probably. I can't imagine being mother to a newborn and not being just as busy, if not more so, than I am now. But I don't think I will dislike my time off from school, either. I am already dreading the spring semester when I will return. And I haven't even experienced the break yet. I don't want to leave my little girl home with someone else. I want to be a mom, a stay-at-home mom, and already have my degree, and have already done my internship, and not have to think about whether she is being taken care of according to my specifications, or be sure to make my train.
But this will come in time. I will need to finish, to persevere, to have strength until the end. It is very daunting.
I'd like to start painting more again. Today is not the day for it, because I'm quite sure I would come out with a brown mess on a ruined canvas, simply because my brain is far too fuzzy. I can't quite tell if my fever is going up again...I would really rather not take more tylenol. I'm biased against the stuff. But soon, I will paint again. Very soon. I can't stand to not paint. It makes me crazy.
Maybe someday I could sell a painting or two. It's doubtful. But I've always dreamt of selling an art-form of some kind. Maybe someday.
Waiting for Nicholas to get off work, I tried to study for a little. Yeah, right. Because I'm lucid enough for that. Everything I tried came out wrong. Even the homework I did for Dr. V today was so messed up. I hope that he remembers my inability to focus today. He probably will. What a great professor. He always asks how I'm doing. Always asks about little Zooey. Always tells me to rest. It is nice to have a professor say that, as opposed to, "You're late!" or "You've over-cut!" or "Why do you need so many prenatal checkups?" or my all-time favourite, "I can't do anything to help you." Truthfully, though, I think I need to experience all this. So that someday, when I may be a professor, I can be strong in my convictions, and yet understanding enough to recognize when a student just plain out needs a break. You'd think that being a pregnant wife who attends school full-time would be a pretty good reason for that, just like someone who breaks their leg or gets pneumonia.
This post is going to be way to honest, I'm sure. It's the fever talking. I had better go find a thermometer.
We finished our closing show last night. I hadn't realized how much of a creative outlet it had become for me until today, when I corrected my thoughts, reminding myself that I didn't have play practice tonight or tomorrow night, either, for that matter.
Instead, I am gearing up for a whole new life. Motherhood. Continuing in the role of wife. Living in a small town, rather than a big city. Having a car again? I'm not sure I know how to drive anymore! Staying home with our little girl, Zooey, and cooking dinner for my husband when he gets home from work. A lot less out-and-about...just as busy? Maybe. Probably. I can't imagine being mother to a newborn and not being just as busy, if not more so, than I am now. But I don't think I will dislike my time off from school, either. I am already dreading the spring semester when I will return. And I haven't even experienced the break yet. I don't want to leave my little girl home with someone else. I want to be a mom, a stay-at-home mom, and already have my degree, and have already done my internship, and not have to think about whether she is being taken care of according to my specifications, or be sure to make my train.
But this will come in time. I will need to finish, to persevere, to have strength until the end. It is very daunting.
I'd like to start painting more again. Today is not the day for it, because I'm quite sure I would come out with a brown mess on a ruined canvas, simply because my brain is far too fuzzy. I can't quite tell if my fever is going up again...I would really rather not take more tylenol. I'm biased against the stuff. But soon, I will paint again. Very soon. I can't stand to not paint. It makes me crazy.
Maybe someday I could sell a painting or two. It's doubtful. But I've always dreamt of selling an art-form of some kind. Maybe someday.
Waiting for Nicholas to get off work, I tried to study for a little. Yeah, right. Because I'm lucid enough for that. Everything I tried came out wrong. Even the homework I did for Dr. V today was so messed up. I hope that he remembers my inability to focus today. He probably will. What a great professor. He always asks how I'm doing. Always asks about little Zooey. Always tells me to rest. It is nice to have a professor say that, as opposed to, "You're late!" or "You've over-cut!" or "Why do you need so many prenatal checkups?" or my all-time favourite, "I can't do anything to help you." Truthfully, though, I think I need to experience all this. So that someday, when I may be a professor, I can be strong in my convictions, and yet understanding enough to recognize when a student just plain out needs a break. You'd think that being a pregnant wife who attends school full-time would be a pretty good reason for that, just like someone who breaks their leg or gets pneumonia.
This post is going to be way to honest, I'm sure. It's the fever talking. I had better go find a thermometer.
18.4.10
Zooey Michaela.
We are having a girl. A little girl. (: She is beautiful, we can already tell. Oh, the Lord has wrought us wonderfully!
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