I seem to have thrown out the cork for the wine Jordan and I opened with dinner, and I also can’t seem to find any of those whatchamacalits–you know, wine-stoppers. So it seems I’m doomed to finish the bottle alone, as Jordan has high-tailed it over to a mandatory pre-school lecture on bully-proofing your child. (Mark this as the first emergence of a new parental fear: bullying. Just what I needed…).
It’s good timing on the wine, however, as tomorrow I go back on-call. A friend and fellow midwifery student commented that midwifery, or rather the on-call lifestyle, encourages binge-drinking. It’s too true. At the practice I’m currently with we’re on-call for all but one weekend a month. And when that weekend comes–well, it’s finally someone else’s turn to be the designated driver.
So one last glass tonight, because tomorrow I won’t be able to imbibe. But despite the tettotalling, I’m looking forward to getting back to clinic and births. The last two weeks off have been terrific–and it’s been especially wonderful to have so much time with the girls. But Sima launches February 5th, which means we’re down to the final weeks. At 3am last night I was awake in bed, terrified. In her book Bird by Bird Anne Lamott compares awaiting publication of one’s novel to “the first twenty minutes of Apocalypse Now, with Martin Sheen in the motel room in Saigon, totally decompensating.”
Even worse than a lecture on pre-school bullies, in other words.
Months ago I worried that full-time midwifery clinical placement would take away from my ability to publicize the novel. Of course it does. But these days I’m appreciating how it forces me to compartmentalize it —forget Saigon, because I’m way too busy trying to finesse sutures.
So bring on the pager, and the still awfully-steep midwifery learning curve. I need distraction, and, ironically, the pager might just be the key to a good night’s sleep.