I'm starting to feel like myself again. I completely adore The Wee Boy, and I LOVE going to pick him up, and I love our snuggles (yes, he still sleeps in our bed), and I love playing trains, and I love going on walks, and I love when he helps me cook (boy can crack an egg one-handed and not get any shell in the bowl!), and him at almost-two is pretty much the cutest thing in the world, and I'll be sad when he has to shave one day and doesn't want to snuggle. I swear I'm appreciating the now, gathering my rosebuds, etc, etc.
But being gone from him a few hours a day is so so so so so so so so nice.
I'm still getting caught up from the past two years of getting absolutely nothing accomplished (read: two years of business receipts, bookkeeping, taxes, accounting, emails, phone calls, and all that fun stuff I needed to do for my businesses, but simply couldn't manage while being on kid-duty), but I see a light where soon ... very very soon ... I might be able to actually concentrate on, not just the business of my business, but the ART of my business.
As in, I might actually be able to book a few days in a recording studio and finish the album that is five years overdue.
I keep reminding myself of a conversation I had almost two months ago with my most-famous-friend, whose name I will not drop here, but anyone who knows me or reads my blog could probably figure out to whom I am referring. Anyway, he told me that his wife, who also happens to be a musician, sometimes also hires a babysitter so that she can play piano, and that I should not feel remotely guilty about doing just that. I think that's pretty good advice. And now I don't feel guilty.
So here's my advice: don't feel guilty. Especially, don't feel guilty for not feeling guilty, people.