It’s been sleeting all day. Thick sludge is accumulating outside, and the mood inside matches. I move slowly, spending all day preparing my meals, preparing the baby’s meals, feeding myself, feeding the baby, cleaning the baby, cleaning myself…
She naps an hour and a half. (Achieving that took sleep training, and I don’t mean the baby—I mean for Mommy Theorist.) I spent that time showering, doing makeup, and picking out just the right set of pajamas to greet my husband in when he returns from a weeklong business trip.
I don’t mean the sexy kind. I don’t have any of those at the moment.
No, this outfit says welcome HOME, in every sense of the word. Cozy. Comfortable. Your favorite meal. Your favorite DVR’d show. Your favorite perfume, with soapy undertones and a bouquet of baby powder.
Light the lamps.
Start the oven.
Put away the toys.
And, most happily, put away the Skype machine, because
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