I ache to stay at home. I don't even want to think about putting sweet little Miss back into daycare. God love them, they mean well, but they're not me (and are probably quite okay about that). I want Jr. learning to walk and talk and spill his food on my floor, not someone else's.
And I love being at home with my little monkeys. I love seeing Miss get up from her nap and tell me every time "I had a good, good sleep", even if she didn't. I love going into the kitchen around three or three-thirty and starting supper while Jr. bounces in his chair and Miss tries her best to get her pudgy little fingers cut off somehow (her latest attempt involved squeeeezing herself in between me and the counter and reaching up for a piece of raw garlic - ! - to eat while I was cutting it).I love planning to make felt food for Miss play with and Jr to slobber on - and actually doing it. Well, some of it. Which reminds me that I just bought the patterns for all this stuff today and am Actually Going To Do It.
And post photos to prove I did it.
Accountability sucks.
So this complaining about having thirty million - excuse me, 413 million - things to do is going to stop. If I don't do all the business things I have to do, I definitely won't be able to stay home come April 27th. And if I don't intentionally enjoy every minute of it, even the really crappy minutes, then if I do have to go back I'll have wasted my lovely year off with whiny navel-gazing about why I'm so busy.
So there.
