the work force

after seven blissful months of postpartum unemployment, i'm back in the work force.

[in eulogy to dr. norton my grammar professor, i will now analyze the above sentence at every level.]

after: implies that i've finished something, like being a mother, when in fact i haven't finished anything -- i've just dipped my fingertips in the neverendingness of taking care of henry

seven: an interesting way to label time, "seven" seems to say that it's possible to quantify the hours and hours and hours i spent bouncing henry in front of the CD player while he screamed over the top of primary songs

blissful: the word can't hold the nuance of the past seven months -- the song i sang laboring my son into the world, surrounded by water, peaceful darkness, and the people i love -- the utter joy at hearing henry laugh for the first time (i held him in my lap and cried out of relief that he didn't hate me) -- the way it felt when he just wouldn't breastfeed and i pumped every hour, desperate for my body to make milk -- the afternoon meetings with the midwife to get my wounds cauterized, walking home in blizzards barely able to move my legs for the pain -- the nights i've watched henry in his bath grab his toes and suck on his washcloth and giggle

months: it has been months, or years, or enough time that everything has changed

of: self explanatory

postpartum: i still have the fluffy belly, the weight lingering on my behind, the squiggly vericose vein underneath my left knee

unemployment: they say that motherhood is a job -- they don't mention that it takes all your mental, emotional, and physical strength

i'm: is it me?

back: did i ever leave?

in the: i hope if i'm "in" it doesn't mean that i will never be "out"

work: work is finding carrots in your ears and your son's ears and along the molding and in the baseboard and on the linoleum and down your shirt and in your hair and sticking inside the seams of your pants

force: i will have to force it -- even after so many reasons (to stay current, hone my skills, keep my mind alive, fill the family coffers) i still hesitate -- will i miss henry when he is surprised by a butterfly or a ray of sunshine or a blade of grass? and if i do, is it worth it?


[the cold hard facts: i'm an online writing tutor for www.smarthinking.com -- i can work in my pajamas and smell like spit-up]