It’s a cold-ish, rainy morning here in the Second City, and somehow, I find myself with only three weeks left to spend full time with my little guy.
When T was first born, I couldn’t wait to get back to work. I had spent 36 hours in labor, I was exhausted, and also, I didn’t know how to take care of a baby, even though I loved this particular baby very much.
Going back to the office and leaving him with a professional seemed like the best idea for all of us.
Nine weeks later, we seem to be getting the hang of it (and I realized loving him very much is really pretty much the whole thing anyway), even though to be honest, I’m not counting on ever knowing exactly what I’m doing, but that’s true for everything in my life, and really, it just makes things more interesting.
Anyway, while I will not be unhappy to get back into the world of (sometimes) adults, I am beginning to realize that leaving the Piglet for eight hours a day after having him all to myself for three months might be (more than slightly) painful.
Ok, that reflection is over.
But you can tell by just looking at him where I’m coming from, right?
In other news, this weekend I decided that it was time to return to one of my more 12-year-old boy hobbies, playing soccer.
Which means that today, after jogging around a field and trying to remember to not play rough, because you’re a mom now, NP, all of my limbs are sore.
I also went to yoga and took a walk yesterday, adding to my general aches, because no matter what happens to me in this life, chickens, I will never be good at moderation.
I’m a self-proclaimed work in progress, you guys.
Enjoy the beginning of this week!