So the other day I was talking to a girlfriend on the phone... She asked when I was going back to work and when I told her my time was just about up, she replied, "I'm sure you're just itching to get back. Haven't you had enough "stay at home mom time" by now?"
I haven't been at work since March 10th.
And I left early that day.
I've not once called to check my voice mail.
I've only checked email to see if anyone was erroneously sending lunch date requests to my work address (I spammed everyone before I left with a "please don't forget me when it comes to lunch time" email and asked that they use my personal email address. And, no, it didn't work. They've all forgotten me by now. Half of them waited for JJ to get here, then stopped by to meet him, but I haven't heard from them since. And my one faithful work lunch buddy had the nerve to find a new job while I was out!).
"Don't you get bored?" my friend asked.
My husband asked me the same thing.
Bored? When is there time to be bored? Take the other day. I have no idea WHICH other day it was, but I'm pretty sure it was sometime last week, because it wasn't before I went to Pennsylvania.
I was getting ready to go to lunch. The puppy had been outside for most of the morning (she has a shaded patio, a swimming pool, a bowl of water, and toys for days, so there's no neglect here), so I carried JJ downstairs to let her in. I finished getting ready & went outside to start the car and take the diaper bag out. The puppy followed me.
"Come on, Lillie, let's go inside and get a treat!"
Nothing. She just sat in the yard, wagging her tail.
"Come on girl!"
She didn't budge.
So, I grab her collar and give her a gentle tug. Nothing.
"If you're going to stay out, you need to go out back - come on girl!"
I ended up carrying the 30 pound beast inside, where she ran to the kitchen and sat pretty, waiting for her treat, then put herself in her crate.
OK... time to go. JJ was ready in his car seat. I picked him up, pulled the door shut behind me and went to the car.
You've GOT to be kidding me. There's a cat inside our fenced in back yard. Wait, that's not any cat, that's Zitty, our (indoor) cat.
I'm standing in the driveway, holding JJ in his car seat in my arms (I don't use the handle - it hurts my back and I always slam the damned thing into my knee), my car's running (i.e., my house key is attached to the ignition), the house is locked and I have to get inside and go downstairs to get him in before I can leave.
I ended up popping JJ in the car, turned off the car long enough to run up and unlock the door, restarted the car, went inside to get the cat, and opened the laundry room door, where he came running to me only to stop three feet from the door.
I could hear the gears turning in his little feline head: "Wait - I've been trying to sneak out for weeks, months even. Ever since they brought home that furry black mutt, and then that strange little person that can't pet me. Why am I begging to come in after 15 minutes of freedom?"
So, we had a Mexican standoff, Zitty and I. I would start to bend down to grab him; he would back up a foot. After five or six times, I had had enough.
"OK Zitty. Stay out. You're obviously not smart enough to climb the chain link fence, or you would have done it already."
I turned around and headed for the door. He followed me and made it inside before I did. By the time I locked the door and made it into the family room, he was curled up in his powder blue kitty bed on the couch.
I raced upstairs and ran outside to the car, when JJ was sitting happily in the back seat, listening to the Bee Gees and enjoying the air conditioning.
Finally. Time to go to lunch.
Bored? I don't think so.
...but I could have used a glass of wine with lunch. :)