All good things must come to an end.

And so begins the week I have been dreading since I left out on Dec. 15th. The return to work week. For the first time in three months I have had to get up, dress in something other than leggings and over-sized t-shirts and make my way in to the city.

I had to return to traffic. And Metro. That thought alone made me want to cry. I didn’t even want to think about returning to work until I absolutely had to.

I truly enjoyed my time off. I did a lot, or rather I didn’t do a lot. I stayed in, read to my daughter. I went and saw my son in his debut acting performance for his class. I stayed home with both of them for various reasons and loved it. Things that are often so hard to do with a 2 hour commute. I even kept the house up for the most part. I felt accomplished while I was home.  I hated to see it go.

Yes I knew it would have to come to an end. I had even been trying to gear myself up for it for awhile. I told myself I was not the only woman to go back to work after a kid. I in fact had done so once before and while I hated it then, everything turned out just fine. Give it a week or two and it will all be OK once more.You will be OK. Having my mom watch her meant I could rest assured knowing she would be in good hands.  She will be OK

Still the thought didn’t make it any easier to get out of bed.

I managed to get through yesterday (my first official day back) with very few break downs. I avoided the clock in attempts to not be thinking what we would be doing about this time. Was there a show on?  I tried not to think about the moments I may be missing, that smile she is throwing around a lot more often now. I even held out as long as I could before breaking down and calling my mom for a check in. I made it to 12:30 in the afternoon.  I did everything I could think of to get me through the day. Knowing that is exactly what I may have to do. Take it day by day. Little by little. We will adjust. I will adjust.

And wouldn’t you know, somehow I made it through the day. Miraculously. Maybe I didn’t get a whole lot done other than cleaning out my email, most of which was old and irrelevant at this point. But I made it through. I did it.

It was a start.

I will be OK. She will be OK.

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