I was pretty excited when my husband told me he was taking off a whole month in the middle of summer to work on his masters from home. Not that that is a real luxury for him--spending thirteen-fourteen hours in his basement cave under florescent lights all day and evening. I don't think when he started it three years ago he could have foreseen all the changes that would happen for us--another new baby, relocating across the country three times, starting two new jobs, a new kind of sleep deprivation. It's been a lot of stress on him, and somehow he's managed to juggle it all with great fortitude.
So far the arrangement has worked out wonderfully. We simply tell Gabriel that "Daddy is working" and off he sneaks to the basement. At the end of his work day, he pops out of the basement and voila, "Daddy's back!" We've been very sneaky, haven't we? We've been texting back and forth keeping the operation under wraps. And when Gabriel is settled down for his afternoon nap, I make us a little lunch--the first series of real lunches I had the pleasure to enjoy in ages--and send him a little note. He comes creeping up the stairs looking all glassy eyed. It's our little date time (with Magdalene, who is also eating now) where we get to sit and talk just the two (three) of us. We talk about roadblocks to collecting data, and data analysis and hypotheses. It's a special little time in the middle of the day we are so enjoying right now.
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