![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
numberhuangIn the middle of all the craziness of working for the government and helping to melt a heavy pile of plastic toys into something that doesn't burn a hole in the atmosphere, it's nice to have a touch of normalcy sometimes. That's what I get when I visit Molly Stearns outside of work. You'd think that because I met her outside of City Hall, and because she was one of the most helpful people to me when I was running for councilwoman, that our whole relationship would be based on work.
But the nice thing is that it's not. We both have lives outside of work, no matter how ambitious we are when we're on the clock. We both love having an occasional glass of wine, a little bit of gossip — you know, the things that you would expect adults our age to do, especially when you've got good taste like we do.
And of course, there's also Abigail.
I never had a girl of my own, even though Louis I think has always wanted daughters more than sons. That's why I agreed to have a third baby — it's not like I actually thought that we needed a third kid. I'm of the opinion that you generally aim to make as many kids as you have parents in the family. That way, you're not strapped for money as parents, and the kids aren't overly burdened with taking care of the elderly either.
Unlike Louis, I don't really get sentimental over the opportunities we had that we made a smart and conscious decision to avoid. A fourth child, another mouth to feed, would mean a lot less freedom for both of us. Besides, I'm getting old and so are my eggs.
But I have to admit, having Abigail in my arms makes me wonder just a little bit. There's something nice about raising a daughter as a strong mother. You get to pass those traits along, you get to show her how to navigate a world that does not bend in her favor but can be owned by her all the same. I have Abigail in my arms now, having come to Molly's place for the two of us to talk (about anything other than work).
"She's getting so big," I remark to Molly, cooing as Abigail hides her face against my shoulder. "And looking more and more like her mama every day."
But the nice thing is that it's not. We both have lives outside of work, no matter how ambitious we are when we're on the clock. We both love having an occasional glass of wine, a little bit of gossip — you know, the things that you would expect adults our age to do, especially when you've got good taste like we do.
And of course, there's also Abigail.
I never had a girl of my own, even though Louis I think has always wanted daughters more than sons. That's why I agreed to have a third baby — it's not like I actually thought that we needed a third kid. I'm of the opinion that you generally aim to make as many kids as you have parents in the family. That way, you're not strapped for money as parents, and the kids aren't overly burdened with taking care of the elderly either.
Unlike Louis, I don't really get sentimental over the opportunities we had that we made a smart and conscious decision to avoid. A fourth child, another mouth to feed, would mean a lot less freedom for both of us. Besides, I'm getting old and so are my eggs.
But I have to admit, having Abigail in my arms makes me wonder just a little bit. There's something nice about raising a daughter as a strong mother. You get to pass those traits along, you get to show her how to navigate a world that does not bend in her favor but can be owned by her all the same. I have Abigail in my arms now, having come to Molly's place for the two of us to talk (about anything other than work).
"She's getting so big," I remark to Molly, cooing as Abigail hides her face against my shoulder. "And looking more and more like her mama every day."