the day before

I go back to work tomorrow. I know, already. Three months have absolutely flown by, exactly like everyone said they would. And yet. In those three short months it feels like my life has been altered completely while somehow remaining totally recognizable. I don’t get it either… maybe that’s the thing about becoming a parent, it just works and while everything you do or don’t do revolves around the babe, you are still you, your husband is still your husband, and you still look forward to spending Wednesday night on the couch with a bottle of wine, waiting to see how the sadistic writers on staff for Lost fuck with the characters this week.

Of course, this relative balance could get rocked starting tomorrow. In hindsight, it was pretty easy to replace having a job with having a baby for three months (sure, I slept more when I was working, but being home was sooooo great and napping is pretty much the greatest, all comments about wanting to be around the small one at all times aside). And now I have to add work back into the mix, albeit with my husband taking on most of the parenting responsibility.

I would say something like “we shall see” but it’s not like we have choice (okay, not like we have a choice that doesn’t involve winning the lottery or selling all our possessions and living off rice and beans for the next two years). So instead I’ll say “here goes…”

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