The great, modern parental conflict

Jack and I stood back and watched out little boys’ joy find expression, as it so often does, in rapid movement. This morning they looped the sleeves of their shirts around their necks and ran running and whopping down the hallway.

“Why don’t you go to work and I’ll stay home with the boys?” said Jack.

I know and he knows that I wouldn’t like that, completely. I tried working full-time outside of the home last year. Hated it! Way too much time away from kids.

“How about we each work part time?” I suggested.

“My work couldn’t be done part time.”

True, unfortunately. His work requires more than the standard American 40-hour workweek to be successful.

“How about we start a home-based business together?”

“I thought we wanted to save our marriage.” He countered.

True, again.

But I love him for wanting to stay home with the kids.

Busted intentions

I have good intentions. I’m great with intentions. But I’m backing off on the book club one. I thought that discussing a book once a month that I’m already reading for my book club would be easy. I love books and talking about them. But I’m dragging my feet on it. So much so that I feel a pang of guilt when I fire up my laptop. Why?

The purpose of my blog is for entertainment, expression and enjoyment. Not obligation. I have enough of that in my life. Not nearly enough of the fun stuff. So I’m going to the leave the book reviews as I originally intended—when I feel so moved to do so.

Although I enjoyed both of the books I mentioned for the book club, and particularly enjoyed pondering and discussing Gilbert’s Eat, Pray Love, I won’t be writing about it here. I’ll probably write about some of our book club picks in the future, I just not making any promises that I can’t keep.