This week I turned 34. I don’t feel much different, except for the fact that in between this year and last I discovered I was pregnant and had a baby, a third baby to be exact. My mother, my biggest cheerleader, wrote to me “You have so much in your life for 34 years.” She’s right too. I have three healthy children, a supportive husband, a home, friends and a good job (oh and a dog and a turtle). We are not millionaires and most of the time my dog is annoying me, but we are certainly fulfilled.

Yet, all this extra “free” time at home has definitely started to make me a bit stir crazy (or maybe just crazy). While nursing I have a lot of time to look around. You know, just sit in a rocking chair and look at my home. Rock, look, rock, look.

What do I see? Not the years of hard work my husband, father-in-law and I put into making this 1950s cape up-to-date, welcoming and clean. Nope. I see the new crack in the ceiling, the rug with the playdough stain, the dim lighting in the living room, the scrapes, dings, scratches and more. The house my husband and I bought almost ten years ago and completely remodeled is in need of another overhaul.  At least, that’s how I see it now.

It’s just funny because I never notice these things while I am working.  I don’t have the time to look at my house that way.  I have time to vacuum (most days), I make the meals and clean-up after them, shoot sometimes I even buy new decorations. But look at my house?  Nope, can’t fit it in between grading essays and setting up crafts for the kids.  While working you cannot really ponder whether it is best to make homemade food for the baby or stare at the hallway light in order to figure out why it’s so ugly.

You prioritize.

And that is a good thing.

So while I know I am going to enjoy all nine months of this maternity leave I am also going to fill a Wayfair basket with “must-buys.”  I just “must-buy” them when I am making money again, which is just enough time to not enjoy them because I’ll be working.