3 Weeks In...

3 weeks back to work and well, it's fine. It's absolutely perfectly and eerily fine.

I haven't cried once. I haven't felt guilty other than feeling guilty I don't feel guilty. I miss her like all hell on Mondays after weekends of getting back into her routine, but I'm good. Although today after she woke up all happy and cooing, I am feeling the sting more. I enjoy my commute (uninterrupted reading, welcome back brain!), theMan is making great dinners while I get to enjoy her as soon as we walk in the door, I'm actually applying make-up and wearing cute clothes to work daily. The only thing I feel guilty about is I have zero time or energy to exercise like I did on maternity leave so I know my scale is going to laugh at me and strain under the pressure of my girth.

But seriously, fuck the scale.

I get home, change my clothes, feed her and then we start what I like to call "the cuddle." We sing, dance, read books, take a bath, get a massage (her not me) and then rock until she falls asleep. It could be falling asleep in bed together, or in my arms walking around the living room, or like last night, in the chair by the window with the Once soundtrack going. I love "the cuddle." And it doesn't even bother me she's out by 8:00 p.m. most nights since I rarely put her down until I go to bed at 10.

But I've changed. I've had a few people mention this to me. I'm different. No one can put their finger on it and I sure as hell can't, but I am different in my core. Things that I used to be able to push aside, bother the shit out of me. Yet, little injustices I used to blow up about? Eh. I hate to say I have less tolerance, but maybe that it's just been redefined. I don't laugh as easy, I know that. That bothers me the most. I look at old pictures of me and think "I don't think I'm her anymore." I have thoughts I don't like to admit. Thoughts like I'm not loving her enough because I'm not freaking out about her well-being or that I still need time to myself even after working all day. Or that I'm trapped in this new life, even though it's not like I don't want to be.

Yet on the same day I'll start fantisizing about getting pregnant again to get her a sister to play with. Really. I want to do this all over again because she's just so great and even though I'm a psychopath, I know I'm really good at raising kids.


She's the easiest, most loving kid I've known. She sleeps through the night, only starting to get fidgety (not fussy) around 3:30 a.m. She loves sleep so much she can't be bothered to fully wake up at night, she just likes us to know she could, if she so chose. She eats like a champ, is gaining weight, smiles, coos, does tummy time, makes awesome poop faces, belchs like a frat boy and calms down when I hold her. She is everything I always wanted. More so.

Now I just gotta figure out how to be everything she always needed.


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