My desk sits facing the window- hole in the kitchen wall, an inexplicable 70’s feature, of which there are many in this house.
During my limited down time from my workday, I imagine a bedraggled old time housewife with a crimson-lipsticked cigarette ashing over the salad. She’s yelling at her husband through that hole, out into the living room, Al! dinner (a casserole, I’m pretty sure) will be ready in five minutes. 5 minutes! So finish that newspaper and get into this kitchen and enjoy your dinner.
I work from home, and have for seven years now, and my life is a strange blend of yoga pants and really important client calls, of business travel and bellowing down the street at our belligerent toddler, who is almost always totally disobeying our seriously saintly Nanny. I feel like I’m part business woman, part Chief Executive Officer of the Household Vacuum (except I don’t want that position, dammit), part fitness enthusiast and part time Mama, with very little time to devote to any one of those things exclusively. It’s a balancing act, I don’t make the casserole by myself, but I am beginning to believe that a successful career and a happy family really are possible. As long as you get up at 5am, go to bed after midnight, and work out viciously to keep the stress devils at bay. It has nothing to do with luck. Imagination helps, breaking up the snippets of frenetic daily demands with a little bit of dreaminess.
I imagine my tall boy as an extreme adventurer, leading terrain tours over wilderness and inspiring people to follow their joy with no fears. I imagine my running, determined toddler as a politician with a furrowed brow and a compelling vision, urging thousands to digest and pursue his vision along with him.
I imagine 10 years from now: watching them both through the cutout window in the kitchen, laughing over a pickle and cheese plate, Nolan teasing Jude about the bedraggled dog he once dragged everywhere. I imagine their happiness and Nolan’s quiet kindness and Jude’s dogged determination and I hope that imagination can sometimes foster truth.