So I miss my kids. A great thing at first, I haven’t felt this since I was at work the last time, several years ago. I didn’t think this much work, especially unpaid, my office is down in the basement work would make me miss them. I am still lucky to get 15 hours a week off by myself.

I have been thinking about the need to keep nursing and it seems to break down this way: She is done, my body is done, but I miss her. I interpreted this initially as a maternal need to continue to nurse but it seems even with a day’s worth of the pills the doctor prescribed, which make me dizzy and sleepy and wondering what the effect will be on the little one-a bit counterproductive I have decided. I guess I will have to just cry it out and move on.

She has gone back to wanting to nurse, she is furiously working on there and now when I leave her with daddy is back to crying about it, and having a harder time going to sleep. This could also be due to the five teeth that are all coming in at once but still.

Daddy is now making comments. “If you are going to act like this little girl, maybe we won’t keep doing this boobie thing after all.”

A step back it seems. So I have effectively tried to separate myself from my kids, needed to do this, and found I have made her situation as a being who needs to grow away from me, something natural for her, more difficult. Crud. Again, thought I could have my cake and all that. No such luck. It looks like this is the end for the boobie. And mommy’s ability to give her something no one else can.

Ah!

 Shhh.

You know what I mean.

So I had today free, I am so behind on my work, two pieces to send out, website stuff to fix, and I am two weeks behind on finishing this first draft of the novel I plan to pitch in the spring. (I need time in between drafts to gain distance; also I have another in the works for November. I also need to get a couple more pieces polished and submitted before November as well.) I have been telling this to the hubby but it is my fault as I took Wednesday for my book group which I was sure he was going to hold against me, using this as one of my work nights as it was still a night I left him with the kids. Does anyone else ever feel they only have a few nights when they can legitimately sneak out leaving daddy with the kids?

So the exchange we had today just floored me and made me well, you know.

“So I was thinking I would take the kids to the Children’s Museum and you could have a few hours to yourself,” I said.

“Aren’t you working tonight?” he asked.

“Well, yeah, but I missed the thing we were going to do today for Carmen, and so I thought this would be a nice thing to do with her. I could come back and work around 7 or so.”

“But I thought you were so far behind. Plus, it’s not like she doesn’t get to do anything. She gets to go to a lot of things many other kids don’t get to do. She should learn to stay home sometimes,” he said.

“Well, yeah. I just thought you might like to have some time to yourself since I was gone so much this week.”

“Really I just want to be home with the girls. I know you’re super sappy and miss them right now but I like to be with them too. You should just work tonight.”

“Ok, then. Thanks,” I felt so lame then. Trying to talk him out of my work night. Sheesh!

When I asked for this time to write, I expected to carry the burden of finding all the childcare and making it all work. I was pleasantly surprised by all the time he has taken over the nighttime duties with them and acted like he expected me to stick with this. Three nights a week, 3-10 or somewhere around there, depending if he has to work late which means I start at 4. Still, six to seven hours on those nights gets a lot done. In am still in shock over how much I have gotten done since I started this at the end of August.

I still expect him to start trying to chip away at that time, and I find sometimes that I act accordingly. He takes me seriously; this is forcing me to take myself seriously. How cool is that?

I wonder if he is testing me. I am testing me.

I was afraid I would mess this up, some part of me thought I would get distracted and move on to something else so the fact that I have gotten this far, long enough to accomplish something and miss my kids, kids who were making me nuts, nuts, nuts. I just needed a minute to myself to think, and now they are fine with daddy and I can spend the time thinking, imagining, and digging in to work, work, work.  I feel I am becoming a different person, even in this short time. It seems though that these things require a sacrifice that I hadn’t expected I would mind making. I still don’t, but I didn’t realize it would actually hurt a little.