Endless Weekend

Interesting fragrance name for a Bath & Body Works shower gel.  A picture on the label of a couple riding in a convertible, the woman's arms stretched upward, going on some kind of adventure, I suppose.  I thought about the seemingly endless weekends I've had of late, none of which involved a ride in a convertible. 

The first one was my maternity leave with Hazel.  A nervous new mom, I had no idea what to do with a baby and went weeks at a time without setting foot outside.  The winter set in quickly and I began to understand the mind of an agoraphobic. I had panic attacks when I went to Kroger.  I was doing it all wrong, and by 4 months I was longing to go back to work.  Pass my baby on to a professional so I could get back into the lab.

Next unending weekend started on March 10, 2015, the day I handed my resignation to Mars, with a 10-week-old Vera in the infant carrier. I was determined to make the most of it.  I had brunch dates.  We took walks.  I cooked eggs from the backyard chickens and made pesto from the basil in the garden.  I loved H deeply for the person he became through all our misfortune, and decided to be a better wife. We worked hard to put family first and never looked back.  I applied for jobs while Vera napped.  She got bigger, more interactive, and I worried I'd never find a job, but knew that it would be OK no matter what because I had my family.

And here I am again, the first day of my last Maternity Leave, and I am wondering what this endless weekend has in store for me.  The finality is strange, knowing I will never have another summer off of work - at least not one where I'm still paid and still technically employed.  This is it.  I fold the laundry, knowing that I will never wear most of these maternity clothes ever again, and it feels like a chapter is closing in my life's book.  A chapter that correlates as strongly with age as it does with, say, choice, and I am more aware of just how much older I have become.  Time is passing and I'm aging, and this is what happens.

Here we go, for one last Hurrah.