Dada started working yesterday. J was surprised by this development, but he took it in stride…at first he was mildly confused (“what? We’re not in a perpetual state of vacation???? I wasn’t consulted about this!!!”), then he moved into guarded acceptance (“Ok, go to work, I guess. We’ll be here…waiting! We can do stuff together…right? Am I right, lady who is usually around and has looked less frazzled than I’m accustomed to in the past few months?”), and into being over it by six o’clock last evening (“Where is he? Why isn’t he here? He has to go BACK? Tomorrow? What madness is this????????”).
Interestingly enough, Dada reports that this is pretty much the way things went for him, too. He likes what he’s doing (even though he’s new to it). He wouldn’t mind getting the position (or a similar one in the same place) on a full-time basis. That being said: going back to work (wearing a tie and slacks) after months of walking around (in jeans covered in paint, t-shirts with holes in them, and socks) at a more leisurely pace, and with the benefit of choosing his activities for the day can’t possibly be easy.
My life, with Dada working or at home, doesn’t change much. I’m still the one who figures out what goes where, when and how things get done, and I am always with an eye peeled and an ear cocked for the next development. Laundry always has to get done; meals have to be cooked; someone has to figure out what thingamajig is required to make life more, well, efficient. That’s me…whether I have Dada at home (which makes it possible to delegate a task here and there), or he is at work (making it possible to not be distracted by one more person who requires my attention).
And so our life goes back to the rhythm that it was accustomed to before we shook it up, tossed it in the air, and grabbed it with a whoop and a holler. We can hardly believe we’ve been in this house for exactly three months, and that we were in an entirely different city or state before then. Dada looked surprised when he realized he’d not worked for five months, and then he looked thankful that he could (with extreme economies and limited resources) afford to do that.
The truth is he needed it. His old job was going to kill him either very slowly (with the gradual onset of high blood pressure), or quickly (a stroke or heart attack). Our marriage was suffering, and so was our family life. It hasn’t been a bed of rose petals (the idea of a bed of roses implies thorns, doesn’t it?), but we are all a lot calmer, happier, relaxed, and our focus has shifted to a more positive place. The focus is on us…we are the thing that matters, and we are giving ourselves our due.
J has learned quite a bit in the past few months. He has learned, for one, that this is home, and that he doesn’t like the idea of it not being home. Packing of any sort (even if it’s just for storage) requires clarification: we’re not going anywhere, but we don’t need this right now. His vocabulary has expanded to include the names of places he wants to go to, and we think this is a reflection of what variety he has available now. J has, thankfully, broken out of some ruts, and -regrettably- has tried to plant himself firmly in others. We have made a point of not becoming too attached to his structures, and we’ve discovered that -if we wait to make a suggestion while driving around- J is more amenable to breaking away from what he has firmly set his mind to (as in wanting to go to Farmers’ Market on a day when it was, inexplicably, closed).
Another thing we have noticed is that J’s enunciation has improved massively. Those K, T, SH, CH sounds are coming out much more clearly. He will never speak with the crispness of a Shakespearean actor, but he now makes sounds that used to be challenging. On Sunday evening, for example, he went to his board, rummaged through his tray, and announced -quite clearly- that he wanted to go to Costco. What used to sound like “cocoa” now sounded precisely like what J meant: he wanted to go to Costco. This from the kid who used to say he wanted to go to “Sham’s” not that long ago; he is, we’ve noticed, a Costco convert…there wasn’t a Costco in Morgantown, but there is one here, and J has his own card…he is smiling on the photo…broadly.
Of course, the one downside of Dada going back to work is that J’s internal clock is entirely off-kilter. This morning, it being Wednesday and pizza and Lego, he was up by 5 a.m., and has been trying to make the day go faster since then. Thank goodness it is also paper-shredding day, and this has kept him occupied from time to time; that I was outside at six a.m. (it was forty-something degrees and I was in my nightgown and robe) feeding the fish in the pond because The Supervisor decided it was time to start micro-managing my task list is entirely beside the point. Things are, in spite of these small quirks, a lot better now that we’re all more relaxed.
I think, quite honestly, that it’s the windows. J can look outside from just about any room in the house (his bathroom, the half-bath downstairs and the laundry room being the exceptions), and he can step out on the patio if he is so inclined. The only glitch there is the frantic bird activity (so many cardinals and chickadees!), and the fact that there is a cat (we don’t think she’s a stray because she has a collar) who spends the livelong day under a bush, and the nights under the grill’s vinyl cover. We don’t feed her in spite of her friendliness because we are not looking for a cat (since the demise of one of ours, and the disappearance of the other…we assume some animal took her, or someone offered her fresh fish and a lifetime of not brushing her luscious mane), and because it doesn’t look to be hungry. We are pretty sure she just wants to be friends, gain access to our home, and scratch all the furniture that survived our previous pets. She is rather insistent, and we refer to her -tongues firmly planted in cheeks- as Elizabeth Warren.
J is not into this whole cat situation. He’s having none of it. When he finally saw her, happily running up to Dada as he fed the fish, he screamed as if he’d just seen an angry gollywoggle. It took all my charm and patience to keep him from locking the cat (and Dada!) out on the patio.
But all is well in spite of these little things. And we will catch up on our new routine and vary it as needed, and add more places J wants to go and use them for vocabulary (would you believe he knows how to say Cost Plus? Doesn’t call it World Market…but he tells you he wants to go there…cookies…they have good cookies, and he likes their tableware…) He is also happy because this is a recycling-friendly town, and people take their own bags to the store. J will not allow us to leave the house without those reusable bags…
See? Old normal is new again…familiar but interesting. Comfortable but exciting…