Monday was a holiday which means the kids are home except the kids had spent the night at mom's and weren't home, but I had this really good book. I said to John, should I get to work or read this really good book? And he said, it's vacation, so I read for an hour and then went back on kid duty. The book, by the way is Admission by Jean Hanff Korelitz, and I want you all to go read it right now. Right now I say. The main character is an admissions officer at Princeton and that story is absolutely fascinating. I'm dying to talk to people about it.

Tuesday was Nancy's last day here, and she didn't have to go to her conference. So, we went up the Space Needle for free (thank you my sister.) They we paid a ridiculous amount of money to go to the Science Fiction museum and stare with bated breath at tricorders and models of the death star. I even saw R2D2. It was just so hokey and delicious. I'm only on the fringes of science fiction fandom. It would have been fun to go with a real fan.

Wednesday I never have writing time.

Thursday John usually has David in the mornings but John had an all day meeting, so David, Julia, Ariana, and I went to the Children's Museum which was fun, but I did get very tired.

Friday I helped chaperone Rose's school field trip. We went to the local natural history museum and learned all about artifacts. I had a nice time, and I want to use some of my time off to volunteer at the school.

And then today I still didn't write. I'm going to be the visiting poet in the school and spent the morning prepping for that. I did write a poem as part of that prep and one I never plan to try to publish, so I'll share it with you all now.

Unconditional

--for Rose

I love you when I ask you
to clean the bathroom with me and you say no,
you don't want to, you want
to read your book, to ride your bike, to do your homework,
your homework? and then you bang your arm
and have to recover
alone,
away from the yucky bathroom.

I love you when your pesky little brother
pretends to shoot oatmeal at you and he accidentally
pushes you and you
push him back,
hard.

I love you when you are afraid
to swim across the deep water
and you stop halfway and cling.

I love you when you carefully adjust
your goggles and look down all the way
down, down, down
at the deep end of the pool, and you are still
scared so you do it
again again again.

I love you when you hug your little brother
and give him bears and beads and make sure
he gets a chance to ride in front.

I love you when you sing and teach me
the names of the planets.

I love you when you smile at me
with your sparkling hazel eyes
and you hug me, and you say,
"I love you Mommy. You're the best Mommy ever."

Deborah Bacharach