Get this: We have no plans this weekend. None. Zero. Zilch. No obligations, no parties, no guests. Nothing. If I want, I can sit around in my underwear all day eating Cheetos. Not that I would. Too cold.

I remember when I was a kid and I was appalled at not having anything to do on the weekend. I’d whine, I’d complain. Heck, I did that as a single, at least for a while. When I suddenly found myself unimpeded with a significant other in 1997, I went out every night. Was always doing something. After four months, that got boring. At that point, I started watching movies voraciously. Right before I met my lovely wife, I was up to 14 movies a week (on video and in the theater). What good days! To be able to watch all the Man With No Name movies in one sitting . . . ahhhhhhh, bliss. Of course, I also drank enough coffee at that time to kill a horse. Ahhhhhhh, bliss.

So, what will I do with this weekend? I just don’t know. I guess I could do something productive, like clean out the storage area or something. But why bother? All of that will be taken care of when we torch the place for the insurance money.

Uh . . . you didn’t hear that. Heh heh.

Our weekend will probably be spent trying to counsel my lovely wife. Her maternity leave is up on Friday and she’ll be going back to work Monday. It’s only part time but still . . . she has this Mommy guilt about leaving the baby with a sitter. Granted, we’ve known our sitter for four years and consider her practically part of the family. But still . . . Chris is frantic about the return to work.

I can’t say I blame her. It must be tough to squirt a pup and then have to leave it behind. She fostered that baby in her womb for nine months. They’ve been together every day since the birth, in constant contact. How will either of them react to the separation?

It’s funny, though. I still suffer separation anxiety. When Chris and I first got married, I felt it was unfair that I had to leave her for eight hours just to go to work. I wanted to be with my new wife! I wanted to experience life with her. But, sigh . . . it was not to be. I had to work.

The same thing happened when Kaitlyn started school. I didn’t want to work then either. I wanted to be home when the bus came. I wanted to hear about her day. I wanted to see if she was excited or depressed. I wanted to know what she thought of learning how to read. Sure, I would find out all of these things when I got home, but by then her excitement wore off.

When I was a kid, it was the same thing. I hated being away from my family. That was where the action was. I still periodically call a brother or sister just to see what’s going on. They tell me, but I think they secretly think I’m nuts. Okay . . . not so secretly.

I’m currently pursuing an opportunity that would get me home a full 60 to 90 minutes earlier every day. I find that very exciting. I get more daddy time! Keep your fingers crossed.

I don’t know what it is. Why am I so connected to the home? To the family? Is it because I was brought up in such a big, strong family? Or is it because I’m a momma’s boy? I don’t know. I just feel happier when the family’s around.

Besides, Gertrude’s cheeks are filling out. She looks like a chubby little baby. She’s cute! But, having an infant around makes Kaitlyn’s growth all the more apparent. She’s huge! I carried her up to bed on New Year’s Eve and just about died. She’s a lug!

I have no point. Just that time moves on, kids grow up and I like to be at home with my family. But I guess that’s a good point. Here, I’ll mold it in to one:

Life is too short to waste your time worrying about pointless things. Find out what’s important in your life and dedicate yourself to it. Make no apologies. Make no excuses; just show the world how dedicated you are to your passion.

My passion is my family. Now I have to go before they grow up and start using credit cards.