I groan every morning when I get up and get ready for work. It’s not an audible groan, per se, just an internal ‘here we go again’ groan. It’s not that I don’t enjoy my job either. I work with pleasant young people, and the demands of the day aren’t excessive.
So ‘what’s the problem?’ you ask. Well, I leave so early each morning (6:25 a.m.), and get back so late (7:15 p.m.) that I rarely see my children. They’re still asleep when I leave, and it’s bedtime when I get home. I get a few kisses and hugs before bed. I might even get in a quick breakdown of the day. But I’ve usually got to content myself with peeking in on them as they slumber.
I was definitely spoiled by the year I spent “working from home” while wifey brought home the bacon. At the time (my glorious ‘consulting days’), two of my kids were in pre-school and kindergarten, and the baby was at home with me.
It was unquestionably the greatest year of my life. Wifey hated it. But hey, you win some, you lose some. I got bonding time that I would have never had if I’d been working (and that I don’t get now because I am working).
During that year, I developed unique relationships with each of my children. Asha (aka ‘the Diva’) and I acted and performed plays. Chima (Pele-in-training) and I played soccer. The baby (‘lil genius) and I engaged in regular discourse on the state of the world.
The impact of that year is felt each time I come home and the kids rush to greet me. When I’m home on the weekends, the kids are always up underneath me. In fact, I think mommy might be a little jealous of our closeness (hey, what can I say, I’m the shiznit).
I firmly believe that the closeness the kids and I share is a direct result of the time spent at home with them. I get nostalgic pangs, from time-to-time, and wonder what they might be doing at various points of my day.
I finally understand what parents mean when they say that kids grow so fast. This fall all my kids will be in school, and it was just yesterday that I was nearly passing out in the delivery room (good times, good times) with the birth of my first (I subsequently got it together for 2 and 3).
If I wouldn’t be perceived as a trifling shiftless Negro, I would happily put wifey back on the track and chill at home with my chillens. But I’d also take a few days telecommuting as an alternative (Ali G?)
Hopefully the kids will still be up when I get home (fingers crossed)…