So I can share some exciting news: My husband Chuck got a full-time job, and he's starting at the end of this week!
He's been a stay-at-home dad/freelancer/TV personality (ok, ok, it was just one episode) since being laid off in 2009.
Fricken 2009, man.
I'm happy for him. Getting laid off takes its toll, particularly in this crappy economy.
I'm also happy for myself (we can finally afford fig newtons again). But. I'm also sad. He'll be away a lot. The job entails travel and long hours. The kids are going to miss him. And I'm going to miss him in his Mr. Mom role—even if he didn't have a stuff drink waiting for me when I got home from work, nor was he wearing something sexy.
He never quite got that aspect of our role reversal.
It's going to be a big change. I'll be managing two kids and a full-time job all by myself. Taking out the garbage. Doing laundry. Cooking dinners. Bathing the kids.
Five days a week.
All by myself.
See, dammit. I knew those ugly-yet-buttery-soft clogs were a good purchase. (Thank you, T.J.Maxx.) If only they came with super powers.
But enough about me: Congrats, Chuck!
About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.