It’s Saturday night, and I’m laying down on the couch, and I’m fine with this. The fact that my son is using my chest as a bed helps this feeling of happyness, as does the sound of my daughter singing along to her shows under her breath (much cuter than showing off at the top of her lungs.) Fueling the flames of content is the smell of the dinner I cooked simmering on the stovetop, the slight chill that the weekend’s rain has brought, along with it’s soothing trickling. The icing on the cake are the (adorable) snores floating across the room from napping matriarch of this delightfully domestic display.
There was a time of relative recency when such a scene would have terrified me, much in the same way being caged in a call centre for five days weekly would have, but the more I live this the more I love it. Sure, I love a night on the town, or an evening playing cards, but doesn’t everyone like to break away from routine from time to time? My new ‘day job’ which consists of staying home to care for the children suits me better than I could have imagined.
Being an introvert, staying home a lot suits me just fine. I love the internet, and not just boobs and cat pics. Being such a voracious consumer of cultural products, having a flexible ‘work’ environment that let’s me watch movies, play games, read books and listen to music between and even during getting things done works perfectly.
I am fortunate beyond belief for the opportunity I have. At this point in my life, being able to make this choice is more than I could ask for.