Parenting thoughts
So my son is almost 7 months old, and I’m starting to feel that desperate compulsion of the absent parent to not let him out of my sight - my arms - my touch - for every waking moment we could spend together. Dreading the advent of Monday morning not just because of the corporate work it brings, but the beautiful boy it takes away from me.
Yet part of me still simultaneously longs for “me” time on the weekend, and sees the child as a cute impediment to some kind of idyllic relaxation cum cooking cum studying cum Sims playing experience that no longer exists, and when it did exist, was closer to boredom than any kind of self-affirming existential satisfaction. But the second I give him to someone else to take care of while I do my chores, I want him back, and the “me” time seems like nothing more than a distraction from what really matters - the “us” time.
Oh what a tangled web, this being a working-outside-the-home parent thing.
