My morning commute radio time where I can listen to whatever I darn well please without hearing, “Mom can we hear 92-point blah blah blah? Mom can you change it to 107-point yadda yadda yadda? Mom, mom CHANGE IT BACK! I love that song!” every 10 seconds.
No small people walking in on me in the bathroom while I try to A) pee B) brush my hair or C) make sure I don’t have lipstick on my teeth.
Adult conversation that doesn’t center around scheduling soccer practice, car pool changes, or which grocery store has chicken breasts on sale.
Motivation to push beyond my weekend fashion laziness (t-shirt and khaki shorts or capris in the summer or t-shirt and jeans or yoga pants in the fall and winter) and actually wear decent clothing.
The lovely quiet. Oh the sweet, precious quiet.
My office door! My very own door! With a shiny silver doorknob and hinges and stuff!
A huge window where I can keep an eye out on the weather and witness the occasional kamikaze bird.
Stashing chewing gum in my desk drawer without worrying that I’ll discover empty wrappers the next day because my girls like to chew the sweet out and move on to the next stick of gum with reckless abandon.
Internet that has never witnessed Club Penguin, Nick Jr., or Barbie.com.
Post It Notes that are MINE ALL MINE minions! (See also highlighter pens and colored paper clips.)
Jamie is a 41-year-old Southern soccer mom who has been pontificating about poop and pinot noir since 2005 at BlondeMomBlog.com