Skip to main content

Back to Work

I'm calling this blog "Raising Pumpkin" because Aaron calls our little girl Pumpkin Head. I started this blog for several reasons, one of which is to keep my mother-in-law up-to-date since she lives 1000 miles away. Another is that as I came into the office this morning near tears and frazzled, one of the ladies said my woes gave her chills and that I needed to keep a journal to remember all these things that I would laugh about one day. This is that journal. I hope it can be both an outlet for me as a mother/wife/daughter/sister/friend/lawyer and also bring some comic relief to these days when I just want to scream.

So this was my first week back to work...and even though it was a short week, oh how long it felt. Day one was met with tears and nausea as I dropped Pumpkin off at her first of school. I was so worried that she would wake up and not know where she was. Aaron assured me that it wouldn't matter because she never knew where she was. So much for comfort.

On the first day I was glued to the webcam until lunch when I went to the daycare to see her and let her know that mom was thinking about her. She was calm and content when I walked in. I picked her up. I love and kiss on her, oblivious (or at least ignoring) to the fact that she is no longer content. She's groany and squirmy and fussy. I put her back down and she fell asleep. Guess she didn't miss me as much as I missed her.

Day two was easier, although she was not sleeping well at home. Guess all the knowledge she was gaining at school was keeping her up nights.

Finally Friday arrived. Pumpkin actually slept pretty well Thursday night and I was looking forward to the last day at the office for the week. I got ready for work and dressed Pumpkin. When I picked her up to leave, she spit up all over both of us. Not a tiny dribble of spit up, but the Old Faithful of drool. Neither of her outfits was salvageable. Between the two of us it took 6 outfits and mom's hair in a ponytail before we were out the door. On the way to school and work, I call Aaron and scream his face off because, clearly, somehow, this is all his fault. If nothing else, she must have inherited his gastrointestinal tract. The nerve.

Finally I get her to daycare and I'm late to work. When I arrive, I hurry onto the crowded elevator and push the button for the 6th floor.

My office is on 5.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Hello! The Phone is Ringing So I Say Hello!

I’m not sure what I expected, really. I guess I thought that when Pumpkin officially crossed the one year threshold into toddler-hood that things miraculously got easier. I had a little parenting-confidence and puffed my chest out just a little as I slowly toddled with her, grasping onto my index finger, to the doctor’s office for her one year appointment (see video for an idea of how slow slow is). I sat proudly in the “well baby” room (a place we haven’t spent much time) remembering the days I sat in that same room crying, looking frantically around for a spare diaper and praying they wouldn’t call her name before I could unhook her from her carseat (which took a long time back then) and changed her diaper. One year later here I was. We had come so far. I was proud of us and I looked at those new mothers with a little knowing pity. In all my one year of wisdom, I sat there glowing with the realization that the hard times were behind us. I didn’t have a “baby” anymore, I had a toddle
3 comments
Read more

Good Night, Sleep Tight, Don't Let the...WHAT?

As many of you know, when Pumpkin was first born I was a frantic mess. Every time she inhaled, I timed it and then Googled it to make sure it was "normal." I did not have time to nap, even in those early exhausted days, because I was constantly checking the Internet to make sure that both she and I were doing everything "right." Unfortunately, I realized too late that the Almighty Internet is a wealth of knowledge...and of useless crap. Anyone who wants can post anything they want on the Internet. Take this Blog for instance - I have no particularized knowledge about anything maternal, but I could start writing exclusively about how if your child is not snorting five packets of Kool-Aid each morning, she is doomed to be a terrible speller. Of course this is not true (or at least there is no scientific evidence to back it up), but I could write it here and, based on my writing about my own "experience" some new mother would be at Sam's stocking up on t
2 comments
Read more

Salute Her When Her Birthday Comes

So, I'm a year older than last time I posted. Birthdays have always been a time of introspection for me.  I have a natural tendency to get stuck in my own head anyway.  Occasions like birthdays only make it worse. It didn't help that this year I turned 33 on the same weekend as the Inauguration and MLK day. I'm sure you're asking yourself what any of this has to do with...well, anything. Let me start with 33 - or, as my sister-in-law put it in a text to me, "the age of Jesus."  That's right, as depressing as it might seem, I keep dwelling on the fact that I'm now the age that Jesus was when he died.  33.  He died on a cross to save all mankind.  I, on the other hand, was glad my children got out the door this morning without too much unidentifiable crust on their faces. Then there is MLK, who died in his thirties for the cause of all of humanity - peace, equality, love. And then there's the Inauguration.  Now, whether you voted for Obam
2 comments
Read more