It didn't happen.
Maybe it's because Austen is back to being up twice a night (1:00 and 3:00) lately, maybe it's the stress as we try to balance work schedules, the expense of childcare, and life in general:
- happy and healthy child
- financial security (In the sense of "keep the house," not "fund the 401k")
- full-time 9-5 work schedule
No Fair. Don't want to pick. Some babies can hack daycare. It turned Austen into a zombie, pale and glassy eyed at the end of the day and sick more often than not. A nanny a couple of days a week and he's the smiling, inquisitive child we know and love. A nanny a couple of days a week and Kate can work, and we can still pay the mortgage. Kate can work- correction, Kate works all the time. At the office while Austen's at the nanny's. At the kitchen table, at night, dinner is a break with the laptop pushed to the side for a momentary bite. I babysit on Saturdays so Kate can work. On Sundays, Kate works. My office schedule is rigid, 8-4:30, Monday through Friday, night meetings too. Our time together is dishes, laundry, sleep.
Caught in the middle. Can't keep the house without Kate's income, even if we weren't paying for a nanny, even if we weren't paying for daycare. Thank God for my job and the health insurance and hopefully the stability. But the night meetings are killer, on top of the days. Sometimes I come home, rock Austen to sleep, eat dinner standing up and then I'm back to work until 10 or 11 or later. Then I'm picking my head up sometime on Thursday, the week passing like the wind behind a tractor-trailer.
So tonight I had the best intentions of another 40 minute workout on the rollers, sometimes the only 40 minutes in a day where I do something for myself other than write a little.
Tonight all I could do was snap a few pictures of the bike, which I've been meaning to do, and promise it, promise myself,
tomorrow. I'll get back on, tomorrow.