Bad Parenting Confessional: Time Off
At Christmas I was very sick. I was home a lot for the first time since I'd re-started working. It hurt a lot. Not so much the hurling and stomach cramps but rather the time passing. The time with my dear ones. Owie. I secretly set to mind to avoid them.
I haven't taken time off since I started working. I'd scoff and explain how the kids just get ornery and refuse to go back to daycare when I take too much vacation. But how much of that is true? More likely it's me.
It's sort of like a breakup. After all that time together I've now torn off the bandaid. Just blenderize the metaphors and don't look back. I am not with them so much late and soon. Better to keep it way; a few too many moments and I awash in most un-motherful vacilation, attention-seeking and ambiguity.
But then there are times like these, a Friday off and a little vacation. We went away the three of us. It was little like I thought it would be.
And, there isn't that just nothing like the excellent post I clearly conceived 'round midnight last night; my arms wrapped around Monday's child in the dark of his Uncle's house?
I haven't taken time off since I started working. I'd scoff and explain how the kids just get ornery and refuse to go back to daycare when I take too much vacation. But how much of that is true? More likely it's me.
It's sort of like a breakup. After all that time together I've now torn off the bandaid. Just blenderize the metaphors and don't look back. I am not with them so much late and soon. Better to keep it way; a few too many moments and I awash in most un-motherful vacilation, attention-seeking and ambiguity.
But then there are times like these, a Friday off and a little vacation. We went away the three of us. It was little like I thought it would be.
And, there isn't that just nothing like the excellent post I clearly conceived 'round midnight last night; my arms wrapped around Monday's child in the dark of his Uncle's house?
Labels: confessional, half-post, the work experiment
3 Comments:
I only put a picture of them up at my desk a month ago.
I worry that I won't be able to get the six months off that I am going to need to preserve my sanity post-birth. I am just as worried that I won't be able to come back to my job at the end of that time.
For me, it's all the sicknesses that eat my vacation up so that I can't even imagine a vacation apart from the crazy of routine. It wears me down. And now, I'm in the midst of a week sick myself, sending her in so I can heal and it all seems so broken.
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