The last few months around here have been pretty stellar by my standards. Though I had to return to work after only 3 weeks off, for the life altering (as in giving) experience, My lovely bride has been able to be a stay at home Mom. And I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be risking a night on the couch to say that she has been superbly happy with this situation as well. She gets to hang out at home with RQ, sleep in as long as she wants (with the occasional “Waaah, ImsoFREAKINhungryfeedmenow” kind of interruption), tool around on the computer all day (without a Baracuda web filter I might add, not that I care), leisurely drink coffee in PJ’s, shower at noon or later, and so on. And that’s awesome, really. I’m not being sarcastic. I mean it really is about the least we, as a society, can do for our women after they bring one of those little creatures to life. “Hi new Mom, great job here’s 12 weeks off.” Can we change this number to months please? So it doesn’t seem so fucking glamorous. 12 week is only 3 effing months people. 3 months. It’s been great for me too (now here’s where I risk that night on the couch). She does 90% of the laundry, goes to the grocery store most of the time (which means an almost never devoid of beer refrigerator), keeps the house nice and spik’n. Plus the fact that RQ’s had his Mama home to chill with all this time. This all changes tomorrow!
Tomorrow Mon returns to the daily grind. Err, I guess like a half grind. Or that really coarse grind you use for french press coffee. Something like that. I don’t know, now I want a cup of coffee. So she’ll just be going in a few hours a day a couple days a week. But still, it’s going to change things. It’s going be more like the reality we used to know, pre-RQ, than the one I’ve since come accustomed to. She’ll be at work until it’s dark, though not entirely her fault. (Daylight Savings WASN’T her idea. I don’t think). I barely get home in time to see the last rays hangin’ on to the hillside. But not her, by the time she escapes the confines of the office Mr. Sun has long since said his farewells. Honestly, that’s been one of the nicest parts of her being off. For the last like 6 years, maybe longer, she’s had a job where she gets home much later than I. And her being home when I get home is awesome. I already feel robbed at the end of a weekend, so those extra couple hours are incredibly nice. And Needed. And of course I’ll have to start buying my own beer (among other life sustaining necessities). And do more laundry. And more Vacuuming. And more dishes. I know right, totally sucks for ME (when she reads this I’ll be hiding under something).
Realistically it will not suck all that much. It just takes a bit of getting used to. And on the bright side you return to work with a new found sense of lack of interest. I know this from experience. And it makes getting home to see that little monkey all the better because you just spent a days worth of work thinking about nothing but that moment. And then months pass and it seems like your normal everyday reality hasn’t skipped a beat, maybe it sprouted some new sort of growth, but no beats skipped. Then eventually you reach the stage of figuring out what skill you could possibly have that someone wants to pay you to utilize from the comfort of your own home. And beyond that, I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure out what someone will possibly pay me to do from home. I’ve looked on craigslist but there’s no “slacker” category. But there should be. There’s a lot of us.