I survived my first week back to full time work in over a year.

And Daphne made it through her first bedtime without Mama.

Believe me, there were bad moments. Like when I had to get up at 5 am for field work, after a horrible night of the 4-month sleep regression.  Or when I felt waves of longing for my child, churning around so violently inside me that I felt physically sick. Even just a few hours away from her was/is difficult.

But there were good moments too.  Like when I was beaming with pride that Merp was able to handle bed time without me, sending me pictures of he and Daphne snuggled up on the couch.  Or the thrill I felt when I managed to get a hold of some juicy info while doing field work.

Then, there is the realization that I’m off my game.   My new job is serious.  It requires the ability to think quickly, react appropriately, and write it all down without error.   A year of dabbling in blogs and fiction and broken text messages has certainly wrecked havoc on my professional writing ability.  I see why people say that the longer you’re away from work, the more difficult it is to return.  You get rusty. You lose your edge.  I’m a week into sharpening mine.  And that includes putting two spaces after periods indefinitely.  And remembering that the comma is your friend and semi colons make everything better.  I’m learning a new language: the dialect of the private investigator.  It’s intimidating, but I’m determined.  There is so much to know.  I so love a challenge.

My least favorite thing about returning to work: pumping.  What a messy pain in the boob!  And with field work, it’s hard to find the time to drain the suckers.  BUT I can say I do like being able to see how much my skinny child is eating via the bottle.  She’s a light eater this one.  Max, she’s taken down eight ounces, one time.  Most feedings she eats two to three.  And yet her poos are still explosive.  I have big plans to discuss my daughter’s bowel movements with her doc this coming Wednesday when she has her four month check-up.

Four. Months. Old.

I can hardly believe it.

And yet, it seems like I’ve known her forever and only for a day, all at the same time.  I’m getting to know this baby as an individual, a unique snowflake of a girl, while learning about myself as a mother.  It’s truly fascinating.





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