n. 1. A peanut.
n. 2. A chocolate covered peanut confection enjoyed by moviegoers everywhere
n. 3. An alternate nickname for my son.
5 months ago I had a little boy and it was good. Great even. Through the sleep deprivation, I saw right away that we created something so wonderful, it now was a little more clear why those Duggars keep having children. Sleep deprivation makes you think crazy things, btw. Still, I love that little guy more than I could describe. Everything I knew about love prior to his arrival now seems…I don’t know, lacking somehow. Like the word “love” as I’ve always known it is a pitiful description for the overwhelming force behind what I feel for this little lump. We need more words. If those indigenous folks up north can have 8 different words for snow, we need more than just ‘love’.
Anyway, so my Goober and I got to spend his first 10 weeks of life together, 24/7, save an occasional sanity trip to dinner with my husband while one of our many parents fought over who got to watch him. According to my stepmom, an hour at Panera does not a date night make, and she will CUT you if you try to short her her time with her grandson. Seriously.
More anyways, 10 weeks post partum, I returned to my job. A job that I like with people I like doing work that is boring but pays the bills. I always knew I would return to work. Considering my husband and I have done very little worthy of our student loans, my return was a given unless we want to exchange our house in suburbia for a rented trailer in the sticks. So off to work I went.
So for 5 days a week, I get to see my Goober for about 25 minutes in the morning, from the time he wakes up until I take him to the sitter, and for 2.5 hours each night before he goes to bed. And the other 2 days a week, we return to our glorious 24/7 enjoyment of each other’s company, minus the chores, cooking, cleaning, bill paying, laundry doing, shopping, and other various tasks that a full time working family must cram into their weekend.
That brings me here. At work. Trying to find some energy or inspiration to drag me through until 4:30, when I get to leave this desk, get in my car, shake my fist at the crazies that roam the highway, and make my way to my little guy. My Goober. My little piece of sunshine. And that is where you come in. “YOU” being this imaginary space where I have decided to turn to create myself a little boost of energy. Little stories, anecdotes, and instances I will document so that during my 2:30 slump, I don’t feel compelled to turn to some overpriced cancer causing energy drink. I can come here and remind myself that life isn’t good. It’s fucking fantastic.