Baking takes it out of me, my energy and brain power seem to go flat after I retire from work. Home I go to my eager children and husband, my legs ready for a good chair and foot stool to prop them on.
My youngest child who is three, has not done very well with my new work schedule, to put it lightly. In fact to assure himself that I will not sneak away in the wee morning hours, Odin has started sleeping lightly. The smallest bump or the light beep of the coffee maker going off at 430 are noises that alert him to my departure. However, this A.m. despite him crawling into bed with us and keeping his feet firmly pressed against my legs to sense any movement, I was able to get up, get dressed, drink a cup of coffee and depart without stirring him.
He is ecstatic on my return but his joy of seeing me quickly turns to his joyful expectations of baked goods that I bring home. It’s our silent understanding. He seems to say with his eyes the night before working when I lay him down to sleep, “Mom, I don’t like this BUT if you bring me baked goods then I will try not to fuss.” He retains the right to have wild outbursts of sadness if he should see fit.
Ah, my boy.
Working outside the home again makes coming home to my kids that much more sweet. For a few minutes, even into an hour or more, we forget that we get on each others nerves and test one another’s sanity, and we just enjoy the moment.
There are the baked goods too of course. They help. Give a grumpy man a warm piece of bread and in minutes his frown will slowly turn. He may not thank you or say anything but I think you can be sure you lightened his day a bit.
So though Odin protests this act of working, I think secretly he enjoys the spoils and therefore looks forward to my next work day.
Now, let’s hope all this “working” doesn’t go to my ass.