Yeah, so, I go back to work tomorrow.
I’m sure that Homer will take excellent care of Calvin while I’m at work, right? I kid. Homer is our backup, if this whole nannyshare thing doesn’t work out.
People keep asking me if I’m ready to go back to work.
If you had asked me when I was pregnant if I would be ready to go back to work after a three-and-a-half-month maternity leave, the answer would have been “yes.” I would have imagined that being alone with the Spawn all the time would turn my brain to mush. Also, I couldn’t imagine not working. I always work.
But now, I feel like if I had the option; if money wasn’t a concern … Maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe I wouldn’t go back until he started preschool.
I like my job. I like my coworkers. But I love the Spawn more. Every day there’s something new with him, and I’m going to miss it. I’ll be in my cube at work. He will do something cute he’s never done before, and the nanny will see it. It makes me really sad to think about.
The thing is this: Calvin will be fine. He will have a great time with the nanny and his new friend, Jamie. I, on the other hand, will probably be a wreck all day. Oh, who am I kidding? I will probably be a wreck all week. Long lunches with adult sodas will be required.
Of course, if I really think about it, it’s not that weird that I wouldn’t want to go back to work. If money wasn’t a concern, would any of us go into an office and sit in a cubicle? I would much rather play with the Spawn than write SEO copy. I would much rather take long walks with the boy in a stroller … in Paris with a delicious mulled wine in the stroller’s cup holder, since I’m pretending that I’m part of the 1 percent now.
I’m pretty sure when I’m old, and I look back at my life, I won’t say, “I wish I had spent more time at work. That cubicle was really great.”