My Last Day

Hard as it is to believe, my 10 weeks of paternity leave have finally been reduced to a single day - today. Unlike like time off from work due to vacation or holiday, my time at home hasn't "flown by" in that time-warp, "Boy, it's already Friday? It feels like only Wednesday" sense. As I look back, it does, indeed, feel like I've been off for a long time. Nevertheless, I wish it were longer.

In the time leading up to my going on leave, I wondered how I would handle being at home. I thought that I might suffer a small identity crisis because of how so much of how I see myself revolved around my job as a prosecutor. And even though it still does, no such identity crisis ever materialized. I wondered how my brain would handle the absence of the work-related stimulus. Turned out that my brain actually worked harder during my time off than before it, largely due to doing a lot of thinking and writing on a wide variety of issues on my blog. By comparison, my job can be quite mundane when I'm not in trial. (Which is where I'll be almost immediately upon going back to work: I start back Monday, and have a jury trial beginning Tuesday. No easing back into it. Reminds me of how I started my leave: no easing into it there, either, as Day Two was Ella's first ever Shot Day.) It's not that I dread going back to work - I don't. I'm just not excited or anxious at all at the prospect, and that surprises me a great deal. I didn't think I'd feel this way about going back to work when I last was at work.

I wanted to capture Ella waking up this morning, but I can't find the camera (it's likely with Amber at school documenting her last day with her current classes). Ella awoke just like she always does - with the biggest of smiles that cause her to whole body to fold up. When I come into her room and say "Good morning, Punkin!" her face scrunches into a full-face smile, her arms come up to her head, and her legs go up in the air. She is the happiest human being I've ever seen at the prospect of waking up. How do I preserve this sunny morning disposition for later enjoyment during her teen years?

It's amazing to think about how Ella has changed during the Dad Administration. Dressing her was a real effort that was a lot like trying to properly affix clothing to a slumping, sagging, sack of water. Now, she can sit and stand as needed; she knows to push her arms through the sleeves (although she sometimes gets her hands stuck when she grabs the inside of the sleeve); and she even has figured out how to push her feet into her tiny socks, making that task much easier. She recognizes what I'm doing when I am thawing her milk and getting her bottle ready - she is now so much more able and willing to patiently wait while sucking on her hands than before, when she would just howl to world wondering why she must suffer hunger so.

Going to sleep has been the biggest change. I used to have to cradle her and rock her to sleep, and then struggle to lay her down without waking her. Now, Ella goes to sleep like a "big girl," by simply laying down on our bed (the morning light in her room is unbelievably bright due to the uncovered arch window), sucking her thumb, and heading off to Sleepy Time. I lie down next to her, but now I think that's really for my enjoyment (snuggling next to Ella is such a treat, and a mid-morning nap is a nice treat as well!) rather than out of necessity.

Though Ella will never remember these past 10 weeks, I will never forget them. The bonding that I had hoped would happen indeed has: Ella definitely knows who I am now, and reacts to me and my voice as surely as she reacts to her Mommy's. I am so very thankful to God that I was allowed to have this time. I know that most fathers do not or can not do the same. I am so very thankful to God that I was able to be paid during this time. I wouldn't trade this time with Ella for all the money in the world, but fortunately, I didn't have to prove it.

I would like to "savor" this last week, and especially this last day, but I don't really know what that means. I spent inordinate amounts of time on Tuesday just quietly looking at Ella while she did whatever she did. Don't know if that was "savoring." I think savoring the moment must mean this: enjoying the experience as it happens without anxiously focusing on what lies ahead, while focusing yourself towards a spirit of deep gratitude. Wishing for it to "last forever" I think just spoils the experience by focusing on what can't be. Imagine taking a wonderfully juicy bite of the most flavorful piece of steak. (For you vegans/vegetarians out there, imagine something else. I have no idea what that might be . . .) To "savor" it by simply holding onto the bite longer ruins the experience, as the tasty meat turns into a bland, disgusting ball o' mush in your mouth. No, time waits for no one, and trying to stay in the present just leads to a soured future.

So, with that in mind, I'm not going to wish for more time, yearn for today to never end, and dread returning to work on Monday. I must move forward, as it is fast approaching the time for me to return to my life of fighting crime (sans the cape and tights, though I do sport a cowboy hat). But I will always cherish my ten weeks home with Ella, which clearly rate as one of the highest of highpoints in my life. But, before I can get to cherishing and crime fighting, there's dishes to be done.

[cross-posted at Ragged Edges]