Tomorrow is the big day. I am properly, really, truly, Back At Work. Yay.
No, really. An actual Yay. Ever since I found out I was pregnant, I thought I would be dreading this day. I thought that I would love being off, which I did, and that being away from my child for three days a week would be a horrible thing to contemplate. Which it most certainly is not. I feel very, very bad about this. Surely it is unnatural, and a sign that I am, in fact, a terrible mother, and possibly human being? I love The Baby beyond words, but there is no denying that spending all day, every day with her, when she is quite frequently a grumpy little horror whose favourite game is trying to give me a cuddle, eat the Sky remote, pull my hair and crawl across the floor all at the same time, is somewhat trying. To be honest, I think she gets bored of me too. I would. Perhaps the separation will inject a new lease of life into our relationship. And if it doesn't, at least I will get to eat lunch three days a week.