Measuring time isn’t something a person–or at least this person–thinks about often. Time flies, I know that, but I’m usually too busy to reflect upon it except in occasional spurts. But for the past 51 days, I actually have had time to think, time to play and time to reflect as I’ve taken seven weeks off work to help Chad and Scarlett get through this period of our lives. In the musical Rent the characters sing about how to measure a year (and go on about sunsets and cups of coffee). Here’s how I’ve measured the past seven weeks:
Love. Tears. Hugs. Promises. Family. Friends. A stiff upper lip. Worry. Thankfulness. Exhaustion. Snuggles. Surgery. Mount Sinai Hospital. Close to 2,000 km driving around the city. Costco. Drop off and pick up at nursery school. Playdates. Cleaning sutures. Cooking three meals for three people. The Science Centre. Library books. Laughter. Twitter. Snowpants. Rainboots. Sunglasses. Posterous. Be Strong Hearted. The Wire. Breaking Bad. Corner Gas. 30 Rock. Damages. Riverdale Farm. Crafts. Connections. Nine tumours. The park. The zoo. Birthday parties. Lunching with ladies. Bedtime stories. Morning smoothies. Disney on Ice. Dot to dots. Facebook. Farmers Markets. Giggles. Baby Jamie. Mom. Kandis. Amelia. But most of all, Scarlett and Chad.
I told Chad today that the last seven weeks have been the best of my life, and I meant it. While I may not have spent my sabbatical on a beach or on a European vacation, my husband dodged nine (NINE!) tumours and I got the opportunity to be the best wife and mom I could be 24 hours a day. As I go back to work tomorrow I know I’m going to miss these comfortable days, but I know that I’ll hold onto the feeling I have right now: that I’ve got a life that I love, a husband that I’m crazy about and a daughter that fills me with joy every minute of the day. Who could ask for anything more?