- I should be more upset than I am. The absence of anxiety is giving me anxiety.
- My tears surprise me. I don’t think of myself as disabled until I’m trying to describe what I’m dealing with; then it’s a dogpile of symptoms and weirdness from head to foot, followed by guilt at giving them attention, as if talking about the facts of the situation equates to accepting it. They’re tears of frustration.
- Once everyone else is gone, we talk about how quantum physics can change a child’s life. Deep down, a susurrus of joy.
- The never-ending war between the urgent and the important.
- I watch the calendar fill up with a blend of excitement and resentment. I love the connection, but I miss the work.
- Maybe it is the work.
- She finally asks me the Big Question. I have Big Answers but fumble in scaling them down to toddler size. I tell myself it’s the effort that matters. He’ll take care of the rest.
- I thought we were past this.
- I’m starting to understand why the wine-swigging SAHM is a trope.
- There is a type of competition from which you cannot opt out.
