Work, work, work

I may be one of the most spoiled mothers in the world. When Lucy was born, I had every intention of going back to work full time after six weeks of maternity leave. But circumstances can change, and change they did. I ended up quitting my job and borrowing a shit-ton of money from my parents in order to stay home with Lucy until she was six months old. That was the plan. When she turned six months old, I would get a job, find daycare and go back to work full time.

Then, during an unfortunate late-night financial discussion with my husband, I realized that next month, Lucy will be six months old. And on January 1, I am supposed to have a new job, daycare, and all that other crap. And all I could think of was that I am going to miss so much. What if she crawls for the first time at daycare. Or says her first word. Or cries when I go to pick her up because she’d rather stay there instead of come home. I just can’t imagine going from spending every waking moment with her to spending about 3 hours a day with her.

But it will be fine. I have been so incredibly lucky to stay home with Lucy as long as I have. Most moms don’t get that choice. And her father is doing something that will hopefully allow us to live a wonderful, prosperous family life. But right now, that requires me to go back to work. I’m not sure in what capacity I’ll be working, but I know that it will be OK. And hopefully when I go to pick Lucy up from daycare she’ll smile and laugh and crawl up to me and be so excited to see me. And that will be fantastic.

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