Okay, this may sound stupid, but for the last month, this whole going back to work thing has seemed sort of temporary in my mind. It's like I kind of forgot that this is how it's going to be now. I keep thinking there's a break ahead, and guess what? There's not.
Get up, get ready for work. Wolf down breakfast, feed baby, get baby ready to go. Drop off baby, go to work. Pump while working. Work some more. Go feed baby. Go back to work. Pump while working, wolf down food while working. Work some more. Go home, eat dinner, bathe baby, feed baby, put baby to bed. Get stuff ready for next day. Collapse in bed. Wake up, feed baby. Collapse back in bed. Rinse. Repeat.
I feel like I haven't stopped to breathe since last week. Our Christmas tree is still up. People are wondering if I'm dead or alive, because they haven't heard from me in weeks. There are a million unanswered personal emails, the Christmas cards are still in the packages they came in, my friends haven't seen me since October. My desk looks like a file cabinet exploded.
Some days I feel like I've got this under control. Then the cats start puking, the dog can't stand up, the daycare people spill four precious ounces of boob juice, the baby wakes up at midnight, I can't find any clean clothes, work goes batshit crazy, and I find myself wondering just how long I can do this before I lose my mind.
Oh, Monday. Now you kick my ass more than ever.
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