Posted by: mindyourknitting | August 24, 2009

Smother*

I’ve been doing more hand-wringing than usual lately, and my impending return to work is absolutely to blame.  I’ve had some middling panic about leaving my baby ALL DAY with (*gasp*) her grandmothers, and the force of these feelings of trepidation and guilt have been rather surprising (to me, anyway).  Last week I had a bunch of appointments so the grandmothers (Gramma and Oma, technically) were on duty a bit, and on Saturday night Abigail had her first sleepover at my parents’ house.  I partly agreed to this in an effort to ‘cut the cord’ a bit before going back to work, and also because she’s over a year old and would survive a night away from us so we could go out and party like teenagers, dammit.  And of course everyone was fine.   She slept okay (only woke up twice when their dog barked, and hell, she often wakes up twice in a night at home) and had a blast with my parents.  They’ve recently started renting a house on a horse farm, so she has lots of animals to look at and land to roam.  She’s also forged an unholy partnership with their dog, one based on her surreptitiously feeding him Cheerios.  Other than an unfortunate incident that involved my mother mistaking her diaper rash cream for sunblock (uh, I guess this makes sense – they’re the same brand, but totally different tubes.  Oh, and the LABEL describes the contents, but whatever) they all did great.  And since Abigail has been kind of rashy lately, the cream may have actually helped her skin so it was win-win.

The night of the sleepover Erik and I went out with friends to Absinthe, a lovely Ottawa restaurant we adore, to celebrate his 35th birthday.  We had a great dinner, and in true party hardy fashion, we went home at 10:30 instead of going to the pub as planned because we were tired.  I worried a bit about how Abigail was doing, but I was more concerned with how my parents would survive if she was cranky/miserable/teething/refusing to sleep.  I knew Abigail would be fine because the love that kid has for my mother makes me a little jealous at times, so being with my parents is the next best thing to being with her own parents.

When I called Sunday morning at a respectable 8:30 (hey, I was up at 7:30 – I know, WHY was I up at 7:30am??) everything was fine and everybody was still alive.  Erik and I went for brunch and did some shopping, then turned up at my parents house to have dinner with them and collect our child.  When we arrived Abigail didn’t exactly run to the door screaming for joy (oh right, she doesn’t run…or walk…) but she was happy to see us.  And I can forgive her the crying and clinging to my mom when we tried to leave.  I guess.   My mom had cake and presents for Erik, so he got an actual birthday cake which is more than his own wife did for him.  Although in my defence I sent him and a friend to AC/DC a few weeks ago for his birthday, and in his own estimation it was the Best. Concert. Ever.  Which means I am the Best. Wife. Ever.

This week is going to be a little less hectic than last, and then Monday, BAM, I start work.  So if my next few posts are all similar in tone – “oh god my baby.  What have I done?  What kind of a heartless mother am I to leave my baby all day while I selfishly go to work?  How do women DO this??” – please forgive me, this is the first time I’ve done this.  And I really didn’t think it would be this hard, since I like my job and like working and want to have a life outside of our house. 

Have any of YOU done this?  How was it for you?  Any coping/balancing strategies?

*This is what Erik calls me when I am being particularly clingy and neurotic about our child.  Do you think he’s trying to tell me something?

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