Time Is Love

There's a Josh Turner song, titled "Time Is Love."  I'm sure it's meant to be a romantic love song, but since becoming a mother, I often hear parent-child love in music instead of romance.  If you don't mind a quasi-country tune, check it out.  If country, or anything close to it, makes you want to ram kittens into your ears, then here's a sample of the lyrics:

I know I gotta put in the hours,

Make the money while the sunlight shines

But anything I gotta get done,

It can get done some other time

Time is love, gotta run,

Love to hang longer,

But I got someone who waits,

Waits for me and right now

She's where I need to be,

Time is love, gotta run

I only get so many minutes,

Don't wanna spend 'em all on the clock

In the time that we spent talkin',

How many kisses have I lost?

These lyrics sum up perfectly my work days.  I leave the house at 5:30 in the morning (it's an ungodly thing), so I miss waking up to her giggles.  I miss her singing to herself and shaking the sleep out of her curls.  I miss her demands of ice water once she's up (so much like her mama).  I miss the mornings, four days a week.

I have become a clockwatcher when I'm at the office.  As soon as the bell tolls, I'm out the door.  No chit chat about weekend plans, no acceptance of after-work drinks, not even an insincere "have a good night" offered to co-workers.  Nothing.

I remember, once upon a time, I was a driven career woman, plotting my moves up the ladder.  While I still have ambitions, I now have different priorities and they don't include spending 60 hours a week at a boring, thankless desk job.  Once I'm home, I do my best to focus on my family.

I gotta go.  My baby is waiting for me.