“You are so special,” I whispered to her as we lay sideways facing one another mere inches apart.
“You are too,” she replied with a smile and twinkling eyes, then promptly hugging my neck.
We grinned at one another and fell asleep. It had been a full day. She and I had hosted our first princess tea party for our two local cousins while the boys went with daddy as guests to a monster truck rally.
We set the formal dining room table with embroidered linens and crystal and china. We prepared the tea sandwiches and dessert tray. As our cousins approached the door with us in our finest dresses, we lit the pink candles held high by my wedding crystal candlesticks.
It was a fun evening which capped off my two weeks off. Two. Weeks!
I’m an attorney. And for the first fifteen years of my career I was in private practice and had billable hour requirements every month and billed my day in increments of six minutes. Vacation was a rare luxury because of the impact it would have on my hours billed. I didn’t even take two weeks off when I got married! Now, working at a company, they actually made me take vacation. I hadn’t taken more than a handful of days over the year so out I went for two weeks.
There is nothing quite like the luxury of staying at home for two weeks as a career momma. The first two days were all projects, projects, projects. I wrote about a few here.
Christmas was wonderful. Full of fun and excitement (despite little man’s face).
The kids were sick, which was a bummer and meant the boys couldn’t go to the ranch with daddy over the weekend (and hence mom didn’t get anything done over the weekend but disassembling Christmas décor), but Christmas itself was wonderful and warm and full of family.
Then, last Monday, I truly took the day off. My husband gave me a spa day gift certificate for Christmas at my favorite spa which I actually used! Immediately. After a completely fun few days at the farm for New Year’s, I was back at work Friday morning painting my laundry room, rearranging the kids bedrooms, and setting up my home office somewhere other than the dining room table.
So now, I’m back at work.
The point of re-entry.
I was ready.
I didn’t make any big New Year’s resolutions.
That’s actually progress for me. I’m a planner. A rule-follower. A list maker and do-er. I even found myself, while hammering out a brutal 30 minutes on the elliptical machine last night because I’m so out of shape, making weight resolutions. What I would and wouldn’t eat and drink and how long I’d work out every day and how much weight I would have dropped by month’s end. Then I stopped myself. Because, yes, I have goals. But all the rules and limitations and do’s and don’t’s doesn’t actually help me. It helps some people. It serves as judgment for me. Then it freezes me up from doing something because I didn’t do everything. Ahhh. That’s its own post.
So I head back, along with so many of you, grateful. Thankful for the time away. Thankful for the job to come back to. Thankful for the family-full weeks. Thankful for progress, however slow. Ready for re-entry.
According to Wikipedia, which couldn’t possibly be wrong, re-entry, also known as atmospheric entry is the movement of an object into and through the gases of a planet’s atmosphere from outer space. There are two main types of atmospheric entry – uncontrolled entry, such as in the entry of celestial objects – and controlled entry, such as the reentry of technology capable of being navigated or following a predetermined course.
I’ve decided it’s okay if I’m not coming back following a predetermined course. I have no master plan for 2014. I have no course navigated. But I’m comfortable coming back akin to a “celestial object.” I’ll just hold on tight for the ride ahead.
(Photo credit JimsAstronomy.)