Mom or Man?

A few months ago a friend of mine with 2 small sons said to me, "Do you ever wish you lived with your mom instead of your husband?" At the time I looked at her a bit quizzically. I mean, I love my mom and all, but there is only so much re-hashing of Dancing With the Stars that I can take and besides, I'm married to a pretty cool guy. But after spending a week at my parent's house while my husband was on a business trip I totally get it.

It was great. My mom came and got Baby M when he was crying inconsolably at 5AM. She cleaned up after he spit peas all over the dining room. She held him so I could try on more than one pair of jeans at the mall. Plus she did all the normal mom stuff like cooking dinner and doing my laundry. Not once did she "dress" the baby and then claim not to notice the unsnapped onesie crotch flaps flopping around on top of Baby M's pants. I don't think I truly appreciated my mom until I became a parent myself. And after a week of having her mother me and Baby M the lumpy scarf I knit for her as a Mother's Day gift seems woefully inadequate.

Now that I'm back home I find being alone with Baby M for 11 hours a day a bit overwhelming. My back is sore since no one is around to help with the heavy lifting (Baby M is nearly 20 lbs and has yet to outgrow his penchant for being held all day). On the plus side, I haven't had to hear about any ballroom dancers, smart 5th graders or wannabee pop stars. And I guess it is nice to have my husband back too, even though he is watching Lost while I scrub sweet potatoes off of the piano.