There is always more to do, but I have the fulcrum and the lever, and if I can push hard enough and fast enough I can make a big and lasting impact on how things work with the whole organization of 100+ people with 100 applications and all the users and developers of those things. It's big. It's scary as hell. But I think I can do it if I devote my heart and brain and time to it right now.
Just two months. There are so many fathers who have told John that they wished that they'd had the time with their kids when they were small that both he and I have taken that somewhat to heart. Yet there are so many kids that I know that either have both parents working or at least one parent that's full-time away from home, that I don't think that this will hurt him at all. I'll just be the one missing out a bit, but I can enjoy the evenings and weekends at least.
And I had today.
Jet and I stayed at home until after my 9:30 meeting. He got to play with his toys, watch TV, and eat Pop-Tarts for breakfast and cantaloupe. At exactly 10:15, the cleaners came, by 10:45, we were out the door to the library, as that's where Jet wanted to go first. We went there, and he toddled in and got his books, a couple of tapes, and then wanted to see what the upstairs was like. So we went up there. I happened on the New Books section, got an armload of adult books, and Jet blinked at me mildly. He asked if I wanted any help to carry the books. I blinked at him, thanked him for the offer, but told him it was be easier if he just pushed the buttons for the elevator. He obliged, on tippy toe.
While I checked the books out, he checked out a different section of the building, but was back before I was finished. He then trotted back to the car, got into his seat, and talked to me while we went to get beads. There was a small bead shop nearby and they carried semi-precious stone beads. I had seen these semi-precious stone book jewelry at Levenger's, gotten a couple, and now I'm really sold on them. There's going to be a craft sale at work, and I thought I'd have a booth and sell these, hand-knit socks and mittens and gloves, and maybe some of the hand-spun yarn I've hoarded for so long.
The beads were beautiful. Jet wanted to handle everything, and ended up picking up three vials of seed beads that I let him buy. He was much better than he was when he was two and something and would have had to dump each bead pile out into something...
We then went to Hobby Lobby and he was great, not touching anything unless I said it was okay. He came with me to the bead section and picked out a bag of choo-choo plastic beads for himself. I may well make some of the same string bookmarks but from yarn and kids' beads for a bookmark with some meaning for a kid, too. Won't damage books and it's easy to find the books one is reading.
Jet went home quite happily, ate some lunch with me, and then went down for a nap after letting me work. He has a horrible sounding cough, but he insists that he's okay.
I got in the work that I had to get in, but missed out on some things that I had really wanted to do, but wasn't so necessary. That was okay. When Jet got up, we went down into the cool of the basement and played Crash games until John came home. He played games while I went to a local barbecue place and bought ribs for John and I. I was lured by some deep-fried macaroni and cheese. I got them, and Jet refused to even touch them, though they just looked like deep-fried triangles.
Brenda says that, maybe, the food and drink thing is a control-issue for Jet. That for him to feel like he's in some control of his life, he has to eat the same things and only eat what he asks to eat. I would believe that. With all the change John and I throw at him all the time, and all the things that are out of his control. I could believe that being able to dictate the food that he will or won't eat is something that makes him feel like he has some control over how things go. For some reason, Jet's picked washing his hands after using the potty as something to cry over, but we keep to it, as it's just non-negotiable, and I'm sure that in a week or two it'll just be routine. But for now, he's just screeching something fierce every time I insist that he wash his hands and make them clean. John and I have been talking to him each time, and when we finally get through that the potty and flushing makes his hands dirty and in order to clean them he has to wash them he seems to do okay after he really understands it again. Sometimes it feels like I'm working with someone that forgets things nearly instantly and have to explain it all again.
And then there are times when he remembers the darnedest things.
It was a good day, all in all, and I will look forward to the fall, when I can go back to just dropping everything to make myself a three-day weekend every week...