I left work yesterday with an icky feeling. I'd made stupid mistakes in an email to attorneys we work with who I respect very much, and I had gotten in minor arguments with people about departments ignoring our requests, about
miscommunication, disagreements, blah, blah, blah.. As I drove out of the parking lot I was kind of angry, on top of feeling incompetent and dumb, among other things. Usually this icky feeling sticks with me all evening, popping up in my head every once in a while, making me insecure, making me question myself, but not this time. No, with every traffic light I passed through I began to think about where I was headed; to pick up two beautiful happy babies who love me unconditionally. I always talk about how much I love Nate and Lilly, but the thing that truly fills my heart and makes my life complete is how much they love me. They don't love me because I meet deadlines or because I don't make errors in my reports, they love me because I play peek-a-boo,
because I read to them, because I rock them when they can't sleep, and I cover them up when they're cold. Brian and I are the most important people to them right now, and they don't care that we're not rich or famous, or that we didn't graduate from Harvard, or that we don't keep an immaculate house. I found myself forgetting why I had the icky feeling, and then all of a sudden the icky feeling was gone. By the time Brian called me to tell me he was on his way home from work, I was sitting on the floor by the babies, each in
their own
exersaucer, reading books to them. He asked his usual question, "Did you have a good day at work?" "No, not really", I said, "but I'm okay now."