I have been at home with Little Dude for over two months now, since I left my old job. Before that, I worked nights and so was home with him during the day.
That's all about to end next month. I have to go back to work. I wish so much, with all my heart, that I didn't have to. That I could continue to wake up when he does, to spend the day playing with him, chasing him around, taking him to the park, putting him down for his naps. That he could stay where I, or his father, can keep an eye on him. But we need to be a two-income family.
The hardest thing for me is to come to terms with the fact that this will be good for him. He loves people, going places, other kids, and the bird at his new sitter's house. He is good with other people, happy and easygoing, and loves to check out new things. He will benefit from time away from us, from learning from and about other people, from socializing (as much as any one-year-old can socialize, that is).
But I am having a hard time reconciling myself to the fact that he's growing up and isn't a little baby anymore. It seems like the months, especially since my PPD has been addressed, are slipping through my fingers in a blur of happiness and joy.
It's so hard to be a Mom who has to go back to work. Honestly, being a Mom was all I ever really wanted to be in my life. But I know I'm doing this for my son, and for the good of my family as a whole.
I just can't seem to convince my heart of that.