A lawyer's letter

Dear Lawyer Gods:

I know I am only two years out from under your wing, but I’m writing to you today as the spouse of one of your minions.

Stock footage from April 2011.  Sadly, his current work is keeping him at the office.

 

I’m just wondering when this lawyer thing slows down.  Will has been working around the clock (or at least that’s what it feels like) and I am about to check in to our local mental hospital.  Not really, but now that I think about it, what a great break that would be, no? 

Don’t get me wrong; I appreciate that Will is gainfully employed and that the economy appears to be as strong as ever.  I feel blessed that his job allows me to stay home with the kids and pays for my yoga classes (because, LG, without that yoga I would have written this letter long ago).  But two weeks plus in a row of single-parent bedtime should be an automatic nomination for a Nobel Peace Prize.  Actually since I’m daydreaming, a much better prize would be to have Mary Poppins come live with you for a year.  And a child-free weekend once a month.

But since none of that will actually happen, Lawyer Gods, I’d just ask that Will get a break.  It doesn’t have to be long; just enough for us to be able to see him more than 15 minutes in the morning during the school rush.  I’ve got about 20 different anecdotes to share with him from this latest round of all-nighters and I can’t seem to find the time to tell him (and I think I may have already forgotten 16 or so of them).  Frances has stopped asking if Daddy is going to be home to put her to bed and George has figured out that one of my buttons these days is to say, “I want DADDY!!!!” when he gets in trouble.  No lie, kid.  I want Daddy, too!

Here’s hoping for more of this guy in the (near?) future.  And a happy Monday, everyone!