A wasted day

This entire day is a no-playdate week for me and darling daughter as she is sick. The hacking, coughing and runny nose has taken its toll over the last couple of days. It got so bad last night that I had to drag the futon mattress into the floor of the baby's room and sleep on it as I listen to my child cough and sniffle all night. Obviously, I didn't get a lot of sleep. Dear husband decided to take the day off because he wasn't feeling the best, so him taking time off worked to my advantage as I got in a couple of naps this morning and in afternoon as he watched darling daughter.

I am very protective of my sleep. However, when motherhood calls I must answer, sleep or no sleep. But I was a person who hates to nap. I always throught that naps were a waste of time. Oh, my tune has changed. Nap time, especially when I'm the one who is sleeping, is a great time. But I have never been able to synchronize when I want to nap with darling daughter's sparadic nap time. Since I cancelled all the playdates we were suppose to attend and host this week, I was taking the week to get stuff done around the house. I must say that I did enjoy my naps today. Too bad I didn't get crack-a-lacking on the houseworkThe only chore I did all day was empty out the dishwasher and put a load of laundry into the washer. Making baby food can wait until tomorrow, I suppose. Too bad I didn't have more wasted days. :)

I make baby food

I went out to dinner last night with two former co-workers. Two younger former co-workers, I may add. The two have moved onto greener pastures. One has an awesome new job working at city hall and the other is moving out west in two days. As they were talking about their new careers and adventures, I started to get insanely jealous as their lives sounds so exciting. For a brief split second, I wanted to be in their shoes going to city council meetings or jumping in a Honda Civic and travelling 3,500 kilometres with two guys and a dog into the unknown. To add to the conversation, I thought should tell them about the highlight of my day: making baby food.

Yep, baby food. Yummy, homemade baby food. While my co-workers were busy with the details of their own lives, I was snipping green beans in my kitchen and pureeing sweet potatoes with a hand mixer so my soon-to-be seven month old can spit them at me and all over her high chair. It is great fun, I tell them as they try to look remotely interesting in the subject of baby food. One of my co-workers tries not to stiffle his laughter. How about strawberries? one asks. Are you crazy?!? I replied. Food allergies. Can't give strawberries until about a year. I go on to tell them that solids are complicated. It is a subject that you need to study and give careful consideration before jamming a spoonful of puree peas into your kids mouth. Politely, they didn't roll their eyes at me.

Although I had a great time, I left the restaurant feeling kind of sad. The co-worker who is moving out west is embarking on a great adventure. Moving may be the worst mistake he has ever made or the best decision in his life. He won't know until he tries. The second co-worker has an exciting job at city hall with half decent hours, benefits and better pay. When it comes to me, half my maternity leave is up and I soon have to decide if I want to go back to work. I'm chalking up my sadness to hormones. (I wonder how long I can use hormones as an excuse). I wouldn't change my life for a job at city hall, a cross-country adventure or a zillion dollars for that matter. I'm quite happy making baby food, even though most gets spit up on me.