Yesterday, for the first time in months, I was home alone. Well, I had the dog with me, but I was the only human in the house. When I worked in an office near home, I would occasionally run home at lunch to throw in a load of laundry or grab something to eat, but I was only there for 30 minutes at the most. Yesterday I was home by myself for more than three hours. That is definitely the longest I have been alone since the little guy was born two years ago.

My husband was at work and my mom had offered to watch the little guy so I could get some work done. Even though he was asleep most of the time he was with my mom, I still felt guilty coming back to the house alone. My brain knew I was coming home to work, but it didn't feel like that when I walked in the door. I don't have an office, so working involves me sitting on the couch with my laptop, which is what I'm doing right now and the little guy is playing on the floor next to me. Because I wasn't going to work, I was going home to work, I felt like I was abandoning the little guy in a way. Between the guilt and the overall feelings of weirdness, I didn't get as much accomplished as I should have.

Since my mom is a teacher and she's off for the summer, she'll be watching the little guy about once a week with the hopes that I can cram in a bunch of work in one day and then have more time to do other things the rest of the week. Next time I'll probably be home alone all day. Here's hoping I can get over the guilt and the weirdness and actually be productive.