The dreaded time has come. I am going back to work tomorrow, and I don’t know exactly how I feel about it.
I am happy to be going back. Am I the first mum blogger to say that? I am sick of the loneliness through the day and the Cbeebies songs, and the jumperoo music that is embedded into my brain, OH, and the spending money for the sake of it just to get out the house scenario. I am sick of being skint, and to be honest I hate doing everything by myself (well, baby is there too, but as he can’t speak or walk he’s not much company at the moment).
Going to work will eliminate these problems, but my heart aches just thinking about it. I hate not seeing O for a few hours at a time, never mind a whole 8 per day. I am being consumed by the anxiety of missing his first crawl, his first word, his first walk. These milestones are so important, and he’s so close to crawling AND talking. Its bloody typical really, isn’t it.
I wish I could just leave my job and spend every day at home with him, but then if I did that I would go back to being sad mummy who doesn’t socialise with anyone in real life, except daddy when he gets in at 5pm.
I need the human interaction, and I feel guilty for saying that, but I do.
When I was pregnant I never dreamed of being how I am now. I used to look at mothers who said they couldn’t wait to go to work and I’d think ‘why?!’, and I would say stupid things like ‘when the baby is born I will spend every second at home playing and talking to him‘. Ha! It isn’t realistic. I do spend 90% of my day talking and playing with him, but, I will admit, there have been times when I have just wanted five minutes away from the sodding music that comes out of almost every toy he owns, so I will put him in the jumperoo pointed at Mr Tumble while I make myself a cup of tea and breathe for five minutes. These times are getting more frequent now he has more attitude and teeth problems.
Not only that, I will plan something to do for every day of the week, and now I spend almost every day at my mothers house, especially for the free coffee and company. Sorry, mam.
There is definitely a little part of me that is sad though. I feel like I am coming to the end of my own little maternity milestone. My pregnancy bubble has well and truly burst, and now I am just normal Fern again, except with saggier tits/stomach and rather large eye bags. Going back isn’t too bad. I will still see O every night and four full days, which is more than some people get, I guess.