The rest of life begins

  

Last week I went back to work. It was both nerve wracking and not a big deal at all.

I've got what, to me, is the ideal setup. I think. I'm working part time, just two days a week for now. Maybe I'll kick it up to three in the fall, maybe not. I work two days in a row in the middle of the week, leaving me a nice five-day stretch to spend with Nils. My workdays are shortened too; six hours instead of your typical seven. I'm keeping up my skills and resume then, and having adult interactions without feeling like I'm letting someone else raise my son. This is a good compromise. Probably the best I can possibly get.

That first morning was hard (as were the several nights that preceded it). I wished for a way to make him understand why I was leaving and when I'd come back, but those sweet blue eyes were uncomprehending. Walking to childcare, I thought to myself, "this is unnatural! Why do we live in a society that forces us to separate from our children so soon?" Would he cry all day? Would he feel panicked and abandoned? Would I feel panicked and neglectful? Turns out we were both fine. He was all smiles when I dropped him off in the morning and all smiles when I returned. He'd had a good day, I was told. He'd only cried once. He's a cool cat, that kid. For my part, I was able to both focus and catch up with co-workers. The day sort of flew by; imagine that. I'll go back in twice this week, and will probably freak out just a little tiny bit.

So all is well. Having been through time at home with my baby and the return to work though, I can now say with confidence that I like being at home. I like it better than being at work. Raising Nils is such an amazing thing, and I know it's only going to get better as he gets older. There's so much I want to teach him.

Work is great too, of course.  I plan to continue doing it. I'm just so glad that I can do it on a part-time level for now.