Okay, I admit it! I don't mind being back at work. Since last week was my first week back, everyone kept asking me how I was doing. I felt guilty admitting that I was fine. Of course I called day care twice a day to check on Dee and of course I drove like a mad woman on a mission when it was time to pick the girls up, but, really, I don't feel an immense guilt that my children - and especially my three-month-old - is in day care.
I am good at my job. I like the people I work with. I like feeling a sense of accomplishment when I complete tasks or contribute a thoughtful comment during a meeting. I know that my children are well taken care of. Dee drinks larger quantities and less frequently from a bottle at day care than at home; LP pees on the potty like a champ. And I have Fridays and Mondays with Dee.
What I missed most last week was having time to take care of things. There was no leisurely dinner prep during nap time, or laundry loads on quick trips to the basement. Errands could not be run with children in tow, instead waiting to be efficiently bundled into uber-runs during the weekend (still with children in tow).
I feel guilty for not feeling guilty.