Ah, the work bathroom.
I need that cubicle. I despise it, and hate it, and need it. Once I go in there, and close and bolt the door, I have the few minutes of privacy I need before I plunge back into the chaotic land of the workplace.
Until she comes in.
Last week, my niece was in town with her newborn son. I spent several hours holding him because I have a long-standing weakness for infants. It was so nice to spend some quiet time with the newest member of our family. Since I was enjoying myself, several people asked if I wanted another baby. I have just enough time to squeeze one more in if I hurry.
The answer is “No”. The truth is that I am weary of monitoring small butts. Every baby is a minimum two year commitment to diapers. Honestly, it’s probably more like three years and that doesn’t include nighttime wetting. My daughter, who I will call Bean, is 2.5 and I am finally seeing the light at the end of the diaper tunnel. I can’t go back. I won’t go back. I can’t bear the thought of an endless pile of diapers on the horizon. Continue reading