In 13 working days, I'll be back at it. Out of the house, away from my baby, focusing my energy on raising money for environmental conservation instead of attempting to raise a well adapted and well rounded child.
To say I have mixed feelings is an understatement. My mind is a veritable blender. While I look forward to swapping my Mom clothes (yoga pants & a hoodie) for high heels and clothes that at least appear that I haven't completely given up on myself, aesthetic indulgence is such a silly thing to anticipate. Mind you I think there is something deliciously sublime about trading in the diaper bag for a purse. Ahhh, a purse that won't leave crumbs under my nails each time I reach into it. Life's simple pleasures.
The only other thing I look forward to is being able to eat my lunch. Uninterrupted. Warm. In a seated position. At a dignified human pace.
That's about it. Well, I suppose the pay cheque will be nice too. However, I have become accustomed to the dreaded act of budgeting and the even more sinister act of "retail restraint".
So what do high heels, a purse, a good lunch and more money add up to? Not enough. A meagre sum when compared to the endless moments with my baby. The ability to stay in my pj's and play stack the blocks all day long. The freedom that exists every day upon waking and thinking "hmmmm, what shall we do today?" The times spent with old friends and those spent with some new, wonderful friends (that will someday be old friends). The chance to witness in real time, every "first". The chance to be the first to kiss the bumps and bruises and to cuddle away the crankies. The time. Simply, the time.
The next 13 days better go slowly, very, very slowly. I'm still comfortable in my yoga pants.
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