Me ‘n’ Nigella, we’re like peas in a pod

I’m kind of enjoying my imposed vacation. I’m being very domestic – cooking, baking, cleaning, fixing things around the house, knitting – and since the dishwasher is currently awaiting repairs, I’m even handwashing the dishes.
I got a call from Lennoxville yesterday. One of my former colleagues is considering an extended sick leave, and my former coordinator wanted to know if I would be interested in taking over her two courses.
My initial reaction was to agree tentatively, because although it would mean living away from home again, at least I would be working. But after a brief discussion with Dr. T, I realized that although it would mean working, I’d be living away from home again.
I should point out that Dr. T has never been anything but entirely supportive, and he did not ask me to refuse. He did, however, make it clear that he likes having me at home.
I don’t think I could really be a fulltime stay-at-home Mom. For one thing, I don’t think Dr. T’s insurance would cover the cost of all the psychological counselling we would all inevitably need. But I really am enjoying this interim, perhaps because I know that it’s temporary. Last semester was a little too crazy, with the extra course; and the two years prior were definitely worth doing in terms of my career, but I still feel residual guilt about abandoning my children for that period.
Suffice it to say that I called back and said that upon reflection, I had to decline. My family needs me more than they need the money (it helps that two courses wouldn’t pay all that much, especially once we deduct gas and room & board).
I hated having to make the call – I was sitting staring at the phone, and Robert asked why I was just sitting there. I told him I had to make a phone call to give some one bad news, and that I was not looking forward to the call. He said “Ok, Mummy, you’re off the hook – tell me the news and I’ll call them for you.”
Which made the uncomfortable phone call absolutely worthwhile.