Sunday, April 19, 2009

Reflections upon having husband at home for a week

  • I am dangerously, dangerously good at living like a hermit. Left to my own devices, I tend to snuggle deep into my comfortable world and ignore everything else. Especially when I get to see my husband every day during daylight hours, for seven straight days. BLISS.
  • We are an anomaly in that we could totally be together all the time and not get sick of each other. And yes, I know exactly how lucky I am.
  • I also got super-lucky in getting not only an incredible husband but an amazing partner in parenting. Two nights ago, boy was throwing a fit about bath time (which is a sure sign we started the bedtime routine too late), and as I headed up the stairs to join boy and his daddy for the tail end of the bath biz, I braced myself to hear husband scolding the little guy -- it was my gut expectation based on my own history. Instead, as I rounded the corner and found my two favorite guys, boy had calmed down enough to play happily in the tub, and his daddy was quietly telling him how proud he was of him, and how much he loved him. 
  • As much as I hate to admit it, boy responds much more quickly to The Daddy Voice saying no than my own.
  • I do more laughing when my husband's around. Because I am always free to be myself around him, I find that I am WAY more in touch with my inner goofball when he's around than at most other times. The impressions we do, the songs we sing, the ridiculous dances we make up for boy -- all I'll say is, thank God there are no nanny-cams around to catch our antics. Because we'd probably look certifiably insane.
  • I do less housework when my husband's around. The laundry can wait. Mostly.
  • Husband could easily win Olympic medals if napping were a sport. Before I met him, I seriously would never have believed that 1) anyone could stand more than one nap a day, 2) anyone could fall asleep so easily and quickly, and 3) night-time sleep is somehow separate from naps and isn't affected by one's napping. I hate napping, and only resort to it when absolutely necessary to make it through the day. I always feel like I'm being either supremely unproductive-slash-lazy, or that I'm missing out on whatever's happening while I'm down for the count. Husband, clearly, does not share these sentiments.

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