The Gemini Diaries

Just a short update based on an observation I made at about 3:45 on Saturday morning. Don' t these kids know it's the weekend? Admittedly before this week, I had been on leave and every day was effectively a weekend. Time was very fluid. Days were when the sun was up and they existed without formal titles like Wednesday or Sunday. If you lost sleep on day X, you could surely make it up on day x+1. But it became clear to me this past week that <corporation style="font-family: arial;" i="" work="" for=""> doesn't really have a lot of interest in this peculiar infantile universe I formerly inhabited. Neither did my project team. It was Monday and it was time for work.

So I actually looked forward to my weekend again a little because it was the day I wasn't going to "work ". My, how I had forgotten what real work was. If anything, it' s a testament to the moms everywhere that taking care of children is really the hardest (but most rewarding) job around. That 's such a clichéd statement, but so accurate in my opinion. As one of my friends pointed out to me – as a parent whose job it is to take care of children, you can't put "the work" down and go out for lunch. You can't just throw up your hands and say - "I'm having a case of the Mondays, I'm going for a latte." No, as a stay-at-home parent your "work" is always with you. Sure you can go have a latte - but the kids are coming with. And they may be displeased with this jaunt. And they may let you know about it.

And so this brings us back to the weekend. It became clear to me at 3:47 and 6:55 and 10:00 that the concept of a weekend I had known once just 9 short weeks ago had mutated into something unrecognizable; something foreign. This was hardly the relaxing, sleep in, laze about the day experience I could once relish in. It was work. It was full-time, no benefits, paid in smiles and coos, have to be able to lift 25lbs without assistance, handling hazardous materials, your boss acts like a child (no, really), honest to goodness work from which you never clock out.

So just chalk Saturday and Sunday up on the list of those KIA in parenthood. Alas, poor Weekend! I knew him friends, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy.</corporation>