On Monday I roasted a chicken, sharpened all the kids' pencil crayons and got a start on our taxes. By mid-day I was almost beside myself with loneliness and boredom.
Tuesday I worked. Work never does that to me.
I stay home three days a week because I believe it's in the best interest of my kids. I'm grateful I can do that, and there's plenty about it that I enjoy.
But some days, staying at home, I feel I'm dying a slow death. I think I may have miscalculated the sacrifices involved.
I mentioned this to my colleague yesterday, someone without kids, who asked, "But isn't there a constant flow of oxytocin* keeping you feeling good all day long?" I was confused for a moment, because I thought he had said OxyContin,** and that actually made a lot more sense than it should have.
* a hormone connected to lactation, maternal behaviour, social bonding and sexual pleasure
** a narcotic pain reliever