I realized on Tuesday night after working all day selling Haba toys that I actually liked my job. I came home and supper was in the oven; Billy and the girls were sitting at the kitchen table doing homework. He had made his amazing meatloaf and this time he took it to a new level. (Who knew Crazy Jane’s, chopped onions and venison-pork-beef sausage could taste so good?) What struck me was that I wasn’t exhausted from the day’s work, as I had been on Monday, which ironically was my day-off. Before dinner I bustled around the kitchen and it didn’t take all my strength to get through the bedtime routine.  Apparently I need to work on pacing myself. It has been nice to work and not feel as if the weight of the world is on my shoulders; in my real life I have the daily stress of making a profit where so much feels as if it is out of our control. And, wow, to have a job with clearly defined tasks! Amazing concept. So, is this how other people do it?

Another perk: Groups with intellectual disabilities also use the mall for walking. A smile from someone with Down Syndrome has a special kind of magic. I can’t think of any other way to describe it. I got one of those smiles today and everything went well for me for the rest of the day. Magic.

. . . . .

Last night when I picked Harriet up from a babysitting job, the wind was bitter and it was snowing. We are in agreement about when the heat needs to be on full blast. She told me funny stories about the kids she had just watched. I can hardly believe in a few days I will be a mother of a teenager.