September 25, 2014 20 Comments
Sarabeth and the baby have been out of town for a couple of days visiting family. So I’m holding down the fort with the help of our two crime-fighting miniature dachshunds, Pixie and Prim. They don’t like it when Sarabeth is gone because when she’s here – with the baby’s moods permitting – we hold to a pretty regular and predictable schedule.
We watch a show while eating dinner, share some ice cream, and snuggle on the couch – the one thing the pups live and die by.
But when Sarabeth’s gone, they have to be locked up all day while I’m at work. They’re not used to that. Plus, I’m a pretty flighty person, so when I get home from work, I don’t really follow a schedule. I might shower before dinner, I might do some reading before I eat, I might watch a movie or read a book. I just kind of go with what I feel like. One night this week I spent forty-five minutes tearing up the place tracking down a fly.
The dinners are sub-par compared to what I come home to from work when Sarabeth’s been cooking. I revert back to Mac and Cheese (with hot dogs), and frozen pizzas. Quality lost; weight gained.
Sometimes I sleep in the bed.
Sometimes I sleep on the couch.
Either way, I go to bed much later because I can keep the light on to read as late as I want. Or I watched a movie that was a little too long and too scary and I had to spend twenty minutes booby-trapping the house.
Either way, it comes down to this.
I might feel like I need my alone time and I might get annoyed by my baby’s crying and spit bubbles, but when it comes down to it, when they’re gone, it’s not as great as it sounds. I just spend a lot of time wishing they were home so I can eat better food and go to bed on time.