saturday mornings

4.06.2013

a new york city dad,
just strolling with his tiny babe,
 still in his pajama bottoms,
with vera bradley diaper bag in tow.
a good man.
early saturday mornings. they are my favorite.

as i walk to the local coffee shop to do some writing without a baby yelling at me, biting me, or pulling my hair- my productivity and marlo have become mutually exclusive lately- all i see are dads out with their babies, mama free.

these men? they are amazingly awesome. and i would know because my husband is one of them.

while joe is sitting at home with marlo, keeping her busy, playing airplane and peek-a-boo, reading books and stacking blocks, and putting her down for her morning nap just so i can have some needed alone time, i have come to the conclusion that maybe i'm not alone here; maybe it's not just me that feels that maternal claustrophobia every once in a while. it goes without saying that i love my child to the point of obsession and thoroughly enjoy spending my days with her, but that does not mean that it's not tough to be a stay at home mom. because it is.

it's really fucking hard four out of seven days. sometimes even seven out of seven.

there are evenings when joe will walk in the door after his own very long day of work and school and i literally don't want to speak. i want silence, a bottle glass of red wine, and to go to bed at 8:15 without a solitary peep from him or the godforsaken analysts on sport center. i want him to make his own dinner and to just let me be.

but that's not what happens. he walks in the door and he's just so damn cute that i have to kiss him hello, tell him that i missed him (because i did) and serve him the delicious dinner that i whipped up after i put marlo to bed. i suppress that impulse to be the bitch-faced asshole and walk around in silence because i love him and we're a family and that's just what i do. that's my job

which is why saturday mornings are so important.

sometimes, i just need a few hours to feel like the old, sane, not covered in food and drool me. sometimes, i need a few hours to let the baby talk and the many no, no, no's, and tantrums roll of my back. and saturday mornings give me that.

so, thank you, joe and all of you dads out there who do this for us mamas. we're all the better for it. plus, you probably like us much better when we're not crazy.



so, goodbye sweet little coffee shop. home to my man and baby i go!

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