I love being a mom. I do. Even during the worst moments, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But every once in a while, I suffer from DINK envy. You know what a DINK is, right? These are couples that have DOUBLE INCOME, NO KIDS. Yeah. They actually exist. 

I have a couple of couple friends like that. They both work. Make good money. Go out and enjoy their lives without having to worry about babysitters who are getting paid a fortune or feeling guilty that they should be home spending time with their kids instead of listening to late night jazz at a club while sipping cosmos.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t always have DINK Envy. (But when I do I feel pretty darn guilty about it). It just crops up occasionally.  For example:

• When my DINK friends call from Times Square on New Years Eve to wish me Happy New Year and it’s 9:01 pm my time and I’ve already been in bed for 45 minutes.
• When we all go to Vegas for a wedding and my DINK friends can cut THRU the casino dropping $100 at the roulette table while I have to follow the brown carpet and go AROUND avoiding even the nickel slots because a 7 year old isn’t allowed within 3 feet of the gambling area and I need my change for milk money.
• When, also while in Vegas, my DINK friends can choose from any wild, colorful (and yes, usually fleshy) Frenchly named show on the strip and the only show I can go to is mid-afternoon and involves a rabbit, a top hat and a discount coupon.
• When we get a mid-week invitation to meet at a trendy club to celebrate a DINK friend’s birthday and instead of going I’m giving a bath and reading what manner of mayhem the latest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is wreaking on Hogwarts.
• When my DINK friends show pictures of their cruise to the Caribbean and I show pictures of the cruise we took through Pirates of the Caribbean.

And then just when I’m missing my pre-parenthood freedom the most, Julia will do something…like telling me loves me, without me saying I love her first!  Or thanking me for giving her the best birthday party ever. Or just snuggling me extra close when Voldemort makes his appearance during storytime.

At that moment, I smell her hair, and feel her warm little girl skin against my cheek. Her chocolate-colored eyes filled with such delight because I do all the characters’ voices when I read. At that moment my DINK envy shrivels away. And I realize…I’m not missing anything important in those clubs or in Times Square. THIS is where the action is. Lying here, next to my daughter, reading a book.