I panicked the other day, thinking Holden is almost six months old. Because Steve and I have discussed me returning to work once Holden turns one. And thinking of being halfway done spending each day with my boys was so sad to me. I don't want to think of an end in sight. I want to blissfully enjoy each day from now until they go to school. And then I will cry my eyes out over how big they've gotten and that now I have no excuse but to go back to work.
I thought to myself, well, I couldn't start them in daycare in April. That's right before summer and I want to spend the nice weather outside with them.
And then I thought, well, I couldn't start them in fall, because that's when colds start going around and I don't want them to get sick as soon as they're not home with me.
And of course, I want to spend the holidays with them, so winter is out.
And I couldn't start them at the beginning of a calendar year, because how could my resolution be to spend less time with my kids?
And then it's almost their birthdays again and that would be a terrible present: "Surprise! Bye bye!"
So when Steve returned home from work I told him I couldn't bear the thought that I could already be halfway done staying home with my boys. And he made me so happy when he said, "we don't have to rush anything. We'll see where we're at next year."
Then yesterday while driving, I heard Dolly Parton's "Nine to Five" and I smiled at those terrible work memories and that I'm not making any more of them now. Just the good ones, until I am forced back to work by necessity. I am so grateful my husband sees the value in me raising our children and doesn't only focus on dollars and cents. Some experiences, after all, really are priceless.