Eryn is quietly looking at me, frowning at why on planet Earth I was removing her from her nice warm bed so early in the morning. She looks around at her new surroundings, making out Omi from among the shadows. Thank God she agrees to nurse and I quickly settle her back to sleep.
I laugh watching as she takes over my mom’s side of the bed in a matter of moments — her butt stuck in Omi’s face.
I’ve scarfed down some applesauce, packed my bag and am running out the door.
It’s still dark as I leave the house — the last glimpse of Eryn is of her boots. I already can’t wait to see her.
I’m competing with the commuter next to me to see who can type faster. She might be winning but I have the cooler mobile device, for the mere fact that a TARDIS soars on my home screen.
I’m a little surprised at how quickly I’m able to check my email, Twitter and Facebook. Normally I’m checking while in the bathroom or while the baby is sleeping — hiding if from her so she doesn’t demand her “omna” (I think it means “animals.” As in BBC Earth or Elmo videos).
Today I have all the freedom in the world. I think my internet usage may skyrocket.
Work is fine. People are the same. The venue is the same. The websites are the same. It feels like I’ve been on vacation for only a month. People are glad to see me and it makes the return much sweeter.
No one is rushing me, although they already have me HTMLing documents. I do have mommy brain but it’s all coming back. I think this blog helped a lot.
No one asked if I was pregnant.
I take a half hour and set up my desk, change my voicemail and sit with IT for 15 minutes because someone has corrupted my work e-mail. As I’m putting up pictures of cats and the Eiffel Tower, I’m sad that I forgot to bring pictures of Eryn.
Tea break and a colleague catches me up on all the office gossip. I smile and nod, not really caring, because there are now so many more important things in this world.
I decide to phone home at noon. Eryn is fine (of course she is!). She slept until 8am, had some breakfast, went tobogganing, took her nap with Omi at 11, and is on her way to the library for a reading circle (at this point I’m silently blessing my parents for buying into our attachment parenting philosophy — and for having a mother who will lie down with her granddaughter and parent her to sleep). I’m not even jealous that my parents have usurped my daily schedule.
It’s actually kind of cool. I can hear Eryn saying “mama! mama!” in the background and my heart hitches a little.
Later, a colleague has left me a chocolate. I don’t remember eating it, but it’s gone by 2pm. I hope I ate it.
Running to the train. Blogging on the train. The day has flown past.
6pm – Home
I run to my baby.
She smiles, says “hi” and then rummages through my bags — puts on my gloves and gives me an impromptu puppet show. After her curiosity is satiated she runs to the door asking for “baba.” She pulls on the handle, expecting that he’ll come through the door any second, just like “mama” did. It makes me sad that he’s so far away.
Eryn looks older after one day. Grown up. Mature. Thinner in the face. Cuter. She’s screaming noises I’ve never heard before.
We snuggle and run around for a bit, nurse for a few minutes and then have dinner.
Post bedtime lazy blogging
I was thinking last night, as I irrationally dealt with separation issues, that returning to work was like loosing a best friend. Or being told that you can only hang out with your most favorite person in the world for about 2 hours a day. That a part of me would be missing.
And while I was tearing up last night as I put her to bed, actually leaving in the morning was fine. Early. But fine. Those 2 hours we had tonight were wonderful.
What a change from our normal day: