This is bed rest

I miss the everyday things, the ordinary, the mundane. The daily showers, the regular change of outfits, the looking in the mirror.
I miss the routine, the daily chores, the responsibilities and expectations. The dishes, the laundry, the cleaning.
I miss traffic, driving and red lights. The crazy drivers, the jay walkers, the cop cars.
I miss being agitated at Jeff when he leaves me waiting outside his office when I am there to pick him up, and taking longer to get ready in the morning when I am driving him to work to keep the car.
I miss JR's cooking classes, ceramic painting outings, story times, music shows, and park dates.
I miss getting her dressed, giving her a bath, making her meals.
I miss grocery shopping, refilling water, going to the Lebanese store.
I miss the bank, the post office, the dry cleaners, the phone and Internet billing offices. The mall, the carousel, the courtyard. The museums, the zoo, the open air.
I miss coffee shops, breakfast joints, lunches, and dinner dates.
I miss road trips, mini-vacations, weekends away. The early mornings, late afternoons and long days out of the apartment.
I miss yoga, talking walks, pushing the stroller.
I miss carrying my child, lifting her off her feet in dancing, joining her on the floor for playing, running after her in the hallway, holding her hand on the street.
I miss my metabolism, my digestive system, my dry lips and chapped hands.
I miss my winter coat, my warm shoes, my new gloves.
I miss society, I miss nature.
I miss myself.

Yes, I have read four books in twenty days, kept up with my blog, watched Murder, She Wrote, 30 Rock, Everybody Loves Raymond and The Wonder Years. I have slept and rested and relaxed. I have been waited on and assisted in every possible way. I have had breaks from my daughter, from my house, from my primary role. I put my feet up and sit all day. I stare at a screen, look at my phone, check my accounts. I rotate between the TV, the computer, the iPad. I flip through my book, write in my journal, take notes on my pad. I have had an extra long time away from things people try to leave behind, hire someone else to do, or wish they did not have to take care of. When I look at my to-do-list, I see nothing there. My list is for others; I just steer from the couch, or the bed. From the outside looking in, this do-nothing life style might seem appealing, tempting, attractive.

But, no. It is not. I would gladly give it up, walk away, take it back for a chance to be with Jannah-Rae when she is laughing, learning, playing outside of these four walls. To be able to see what she sees at the same time she sees it. To be able to answer her questions, lead her to safety, couch her on society. I would like to sit across from my husband at dinner, go on drives, share a yoga class. I would love to go back to the way things used to be fourteen weeks ago, but alas, the past is the past, and this is the present. This is my life now. My life for a few more weeks. If I can hang in there, I know the prize will be worth it in the end. I have not come this far to give up, and I will not give up. But I need reminders. My writing is my greatest reminder.