I remember what 7:30am used to mean.
The commute. Up or down a major interstate.
The office. Small or large or somewhere in between.
The salary. Also, small or large or somewhere in between.
And now 7:30am means something a little different.
No commute. Unless you count the walk from the coffee maker to the patio.
No office. Unless we’re talking about said patio or the kitchen table or the living room.
No salary. Unless a whole lot of love and sweet, baby smiles are the currency.
Most mornings follow this pattern (or about twenty variations of it):
Wake up at 6:45ish
Feed Baby Boy
Lay Baby Boy back down
Slip out of the room quietly
Make coffee and move to the patio to do Bible study/plan the day
Dive into the day
Greet Baby Boy when I hear him stirring
Dress/change, play with, feed & lay Baby Boy down for a nap (repeat about 5 times throughout the day)
Press through the “to do” list as Baby Boy’s cycles allow
Greet my handsome man
Get Baby Boy to bed between 9:30-10ish
Time with my favorite man in the whole world
11ish – SLEEP
And that is by far the longest work day I have ever had in my previous 8+ years in the work force.
This stay-at-home thing is definitely not the easiest job in the world, but I love it. It’s a different kind of work day now, but even the longest, most trying days are a gift straight from God.
Finally, my commute, office & salary are exactly what I want. And I don’t think I’ll be looking for a new position any time soon.