This post is way too long but I haven't posted in a while so I'm entitled. You're welcome to skim ...I've been such a bad blogger, there's so much back log from Rachel, my leave, Halloween (oh God, Halloween alone!) But it's now late November, so I figure this is a good place to start fresh.
Wednesday was my first day back at work. It was hectic getting ready the day before. Instead of being relaxing kid time like maybe it should have been, I insisted on having everything lined up for the kids (and me) the night before like when you're a kid before school: my outfits, their outfits, their bags, stash of stuff to take to the other place where they're watched part of the week. Alarm clock set extra early. Every piece of plastic bottle
paraphernalia washed scrubbed and ready to roll.
When Libby came for the kiddos in the morning, I suspect she thought me slightly, er,
over prepared. But here's the thing: what I couldn't spend in physical time with my babies, I would now spend in overcompensating to make sure "everything was perfect" and prepared.
The actual separation was fine. Well, I mean, of course, you know ... a few tears were shed the day before actually, when I realized at certain moments,
oh, this is my last time putting Rachel down to sleep for her morning nap on a Tuesday. Or when Matthew clung to me, mistakenly thinking
this was the day I was leaving him, telling me,
Mommy, I want mommy. Which he NEVER does ... like ever ... until that damn day. Of course.
So the actual morning, I did squeak out a few more tears after they'd left with Libby. I was pretty stereotypical actually, shooing my husband away,
No no, I'm fine, but wanting to cry in private. Then picking up her soft little yellow burp cloth off the floor and holding it,
Oh God, it smells like her ... and now she's gone, my baby's gone ... the one I haven't been apart from for more than 3 hours since she's been born ... she's gone.Then I shook it off, remembered she was four miles away and I'd see her at 6!
OK. It wasn't quite that easy. It was a giant personal event. But ... My coworkers welcomed me back to warmly and kindly, I must admit I was touched, and that it helped. Also, I really did have this a-ha moment of, I will see these kids again tonight! They're mine, after work, mine again!
Granted, I'm a bit in the "just block it out and deal" category currently. But you know what? That's healthier than the "wallow in it constantly" approach after having Matthew. Which pretty much left me depressed, uncertain and, well,
devastated about my choices.
How am I still his mom? How can even dream of doing this? I feel like I'm breaking the law leaving my baby.In short ... felt very sad for a long time. And of course, guilty with a capital I AM HORRIBLE MOM.
But now, I'm having new thoughts. Such as, Matthew's a wonderful little boy and someday soon Rachel will be just as much of wonderful little girl.
I'm also thinking, when I leave them each day, they're cared for by others (sitter and Daddy) but when I come home that night,
I am their Mom and always there for them and they will always know it and I will make DAMN sure of that.I'm thinking, I'll wake them up and tuck them in every day (well, those I don't travel...which aren't too often...KNOCK ON GIANT PIECE OF HUGE HEAVY WOOD). I'll feed them and wash them and cuddle them and read to them and ... well, mom it up. Just less than I did on my leave.
But mostly, I'm thinking about how lucky I am to have childcare where I know they are safe and secure and loved all day long. (Really, Libby, this is what keeps me sane.)
The truth is, my first week back went perfectly. But I also know that's almost not reality, which is the grind of the coming weeks, of learning how to balance your basically all new life and demands. But now I know my key is to not think about what I'm missing or what's challenging ... just focus on systems at home and work that allow the most productive, successful use of my time.
And when I'm done, go home, turn it off, unwind with my kids and dinner and maybe a TV show or blog post. And let the dishes go unwashed and the errand go unrun. I simply must let stuff go ... it's so cliche for us ladies (no matter your work status) but I mean, the things I stress about? Really? It DOES NOT MATTER to Rachel's well being if her clothes are perfectly folded up in her drawers. Only that they're clean. And even then, well ...
Overall standby statement: I'm "okay" with this transition. I
love my colleagues, I like earning money and providing what my kids need from that regard, and most days, I overall like my work. (Note: This may sound less than effusive, but in my book, unless I am creator, painter, designer, life savor (insert work passion here), work's work. That said, this by far the best job I've had, I'm not going anywhere, and I'm thankful for it.)
But the other truth is ... I'm pretty exhausted. The last five days, Mike and I averaged 4-5 hours of sleep a night; we've all developed colds; and I've fallen behind on all
in boxes etc.
I'm not sure why. I certainly didn't have loads of sleep or free time on my leave. And it's not like it wasn't stressful with both kids at home;
on many days, it felt way more challenging to me than my hardest work day.But it was a different stress, all focused on us, our house, my kids. Now I'm back to juggling us with ... them. Other needs. Those outside our four walls. And it's tricky.
I'll get it down. But in this transition period ... if I'm a little cranky or raggedy looking or tired or frumpy or stinky or slow moving or ... go easy on me. Maybe I haven't quite showered today. Maybe my daughter looked extra adorable as I had to hand her off that morning. Or maybe I didn't have time to go get that Venti Starbucks that basically kept my blood pumping through my body this first week back.
