We’ve had a lot of haircut fun and photoessays here of late. What we haven’t talked about is this: I am going back to work on Monday. And it’s killing me.
I know I have to do it. I know it will get easier. I know Natalie will be in good hands. I know that if I stayed home full time forever, I’d lose my mind. I know that as American mothers go, I’ve been damn lucky to get (almost!) four months home with my girl. (And that right there is a horrendous fact in and of itself.) But I yearn for Canada or some other place with intelligent, pro-child social policy. I wish we had more flexible jobs or more savings so we could afford a year or two of both of us working half time. I wish we lived in a place where the cost of living weren’t so insane (but that such a place could still have family nearby, job opportunities, and cohousing – there is no such place). But we live where we live, our finances are what they are, and summer is (for me at least) over.
So we pore over our child-care calendar, I work out the logistics of pumping & storing milk, I spend a lot of time smelling Natalie’s head, we find ridiculous things to obsess about just so we can avoid thinking about next week, and I cry without warning at inopportune times. And Monday, I will leave behind the best four months of my life.