What's up? I love Henry. I love Eleanor. I love my time with them just as much as I love my time without them. Eleanor is taking it easy on me lately. She played alone in the closet for an embarrassingly lengthy amount of time this afternoon. As I was finishing up in the kitchen and heading over to check on her, I imagined a cross examiner shouting at me about the length of time in between checks. She was fine. Always fine. Let's keep it that way. ABC. Always Be Careful. This mantra is in the back of my mind on a constant basis ever since I became a mother. You can't get sloppy. You can't rest on your laurels. Don't count your luck. Proper planning prevents poor performance. Deep breaths. Everything's okay.
Work is less enjoyable lately. I keep getting subpoenaed by upper middle class white people. Litigious, they are.
Here's some pictures.[slideshow]
I do the exact same thing - imagine what I would say to a police-person or cross examiner about why my daughter was outside playing in my car for 45 minutes (I look out there occasionally, and the car isn't started. She likes it.)
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