I return to work next week. In a way I've already dipped a toe in, since I spent a day and a half in a retreat at the office. I'm also back on the email chains as we prepare for the beginning of the semester. So it's all becoming really real, right down to the boys' first solo visit to daycare tomorrow morning.
I am... ok. Genuinely torn, in that there are things I'm looking forward to - working out without having to trade off with A or else attending 6 AM classes to make it happen - and a lot that I will miss. Returning to work a month ago would have been easier emotionally, balancing both boys and their schedules was a lot harder then and I would have been just grateful for the break.
But now? I've finally got things figured out. We have our pattern down, Baz has leveled out, we hit our stride. H is also coming out of newborn into full baby, and it's freaking adorable. He laughs at everything his brother does, which encourages Baz to find new ways to entertain the baby. Oh AND, we've been allowing Baz to run with the pack of friends on our block which means I had a whole hour the other day to read while H slept and the Gang of Four (Year Olds) ran from house to house with foam light sabres. Glorious.
I just can't believe I'm about to hand this guy over to daycare.
I'd love to go back part time. It's not impossible, especially since A got a JOB and has been working for a national lab for two weeks already. (That background music would be the sound of angels singing). We were swinging from one trapeze to the next, financially, and made it ahead of schedule. So we have options. Right now I'll just plan on staying in my fun, easy job as is, knowing that I have the flexibility (and possibly support from my employer) to fiddle with the setup in the future.
God, how things have changed, eh?
Right now I'll soak up every minute that I've got left. Today that means lounging poolside at the Y, with a baby on my chest, library book in hand, and Baz toodling about the pool in swim camp.
Not bad at all.