I always knew I’ll go back to work after becoming a mother. I just do not do well at home regardless of who I am with. Eventually I become restless and problems start appearing where none existed before. So a year after my little Lily was born, I went back part-time (and still am) and I loved it. It was not as scary or traumatic as I anticipated; on the contrary, I loved (love?) the adult interaction, the only-adults environment and the nice sum I got at the end of the month for my efforts.
I just don’t know what happened over the last few weeks. Every morning I wake up and find it so hard to leave. My sweet Lily is in our bed sleeping snuggled against Daddy. The look so adorable and I miss her before I even leave. My heart breaks a little that I can’t jump back into bed and put my head next to my baby girl’s. In the afternoon when I pick her up, I am literally racing down the street because I can’t wait to see her.
I just remind myself of what I turn into if forced to stay at home day-in-day-out and head outside.