On Saturdays I cheer my daughter on as she dances. I take photos for her to post on her Facebook, and discuss costumes with the other dance moms (we like this year’s better than last), and chit chat with craft fair booth owners, and try to make new friends. I am present like a Zen master to the stories, after I tell people what kind of work I do. I give out crisis hotline cards. I buy sweets to support causes. Sometimes I even share them.
But at heart I’m a recluse and it’s Sundays I look forward to all week. I stay home in my p.j.s. and knit while watching DVDs of movies that never made it to my small town, like Cairo Time with Patricia Clarkson & Alexander Siddig. I set my iTunes to shuffle while I clean and get laundry caught up. I work on value studies homework for art class. I watch shadows move across the kitchen walls. I gradually feel less tired. I start to remember who I am underneath all the labels and job titles.
And sometimes I venture out for magic hour.