Total Guilt Trip

So, Friday rolls around, and I would have succeeded in completing my first full week of work in 4 years when I came home that night. The boys are eating breakfast. Peter is having a cup o' joe. I am heading out the door, saying good-bye.

Michael: Where are you going, Mama?

Me: I'm going to work. [there's a phrase unused for 4 years]

Michael: I don't want you to go to work!

Me: why not?

Michael: You need to stay here.

Me: why?

very long, thoughtful pause.

Michael: to be with me.


Four years old!!

four years old!

I don't do the good old-fashion Catholic guilt-trip! Where the hell did he learn it from!?? Where? Cut my heart out and pour Drain-O on it! I'm a horrible mother! He isn't even going to be at home! He's going to be @ Kinderstube (the german pre-school)!

God, this shit sucks.

I like my job, though.

Sunday morning, 2 days later:

Me: Come on, boys, it's time to get up & get dressed.

Michael: Where are we going?

Me: It's Sunday. We're going to church.

Michael: I don't want to go to church. I want to go to Kinderstube.


Gregor doesn't fling himself at me, when I come home anymore. The last 2 times he's run, arms out, joyfully across the yard, right up to me, and then zoomed around me, to catch the cat. Again today.

I like my job, though.


So, I signed this confidentiality-thing as a condition of employment at Honeywell. Which means I can't actually tell you exactly what I do for work. But, I was watching my boss today, and as he hectically told me for the 3rd time today that he would need to postpone our meeting, I simply said, "I used to have your job. I so totally sympathize."

I like my job.