I finished up at my previous job a little more than one year ago. I remember cleaning out my desk and handing over a pile of business cards to my replacement and thinking, 'Thank god I don't have to use these again.' The only cards I collect now are ones from close friends and family celebrating E's arrival and business cards from Day Cares where E is on the waiting list.
Since starting a "life of luxury" I haven't needed to worry about having enough change for the bus in the morning, or that my jackets were dry cleaned before a big meeting or what incorrect story The Courier Mail was going to write about my client.
Nope, the most I worried about in the past 13 months was made up of more important issues like is E feeding enough during the day so he'll sleep at night? Am I about to run out of nappies and what sunscreen should I buy a baby so I don't fill his precious skin with chemicals? Does he have enough to keep him interested during the day? What should I make us for lunch? Etc... etc... The pressure may not be as high, but it's pressure nonetheless. Now I have to find a way to answer both. Correctly. First time. Every time. Obviously.
As this week rolls on and the first day of my new job gets closer my excitement for getting back into my career is slowly turning into panic. Not only will I start a new job in a new corporate environment, but all my work clothes resemble a tent an elephant would wear - a very faded and ugly tent thanks to the behemoth I was during pregnancy (not that there's anything wrong with that), AND I have to get E organised and ready to start Day Care in as many days. Two whammies on one day. I don't do things by halves do I?
Do I give in to these feelings of anxiousness and fear of getting back on the corporate treadmill after the longest break in my career to date, or do I focus on getting my darling boy through his first day (and week) away from home without Mum?
I keep thinking, he'll be all alone in the big bad world with only his cute chubby smile to defend him? Yes, I'm completely overreacting, of course he's got cute chubby arms and legs that pack a mighty punch too, but you know what I mean.
The longest I've left E since he was born is 5 hours. Even then I was a prisoner of my own sweat-drenched panic because I was convinced he was having a melt down without me there to provide comfort (i.e. boobs) and I would regret going shopping with my girlfriends instantly.
Of course I got home, E was sound asleep and Teach didn't even realise five hours had passed. My emotional state was completely over the top and a result of me not learning to let go and have someone else - his very capable Daddy no less - look after him.
If that's what I was like six months ago, I'd hate to think what I'll be like after E's first eight hours in Day Care with a random stranger! Most probably hiding in the corner of the house, rocking back and forth in the arm chair with my arms wrapped firmly around E staring off in to the distance chantting, 'there's no place like home, there's no place like home.'
Actually, that's reminded me, I need to get to the bottleo and stock up on a few good bottles of Red. This Mumma's gonna need it!
1 comment:
I don't think that many, if any, of us get the answers right first time (or second time for that matter) ;) But if our boy has taught us anything, it is that kids are much more resilient and flexible than we give them credit for - and they don't care if we stuff it all up, as love as we love them.
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