As much as I like to think my children like "school," there still are several tearful drop-offs. This makes this whole working thing so confusing emotionally. Each morning when I walk away from my son's room (which is, by the way, adorable and cuter than his actual room at home) at his child care center, I hold my breath with each step, hoping I don't hear his familiar cry. Because it is then that I will have to take about 10 more steps out of the building where his room is, until I don't hear the cry again. Every working parent knows that this time of the day ranks high on the "worst" list. Sure, the brainy part of your brain says, "he will be fine in 2 minutes, happily playing with is baby friends and warming up to his teachers. Soon you will be in your car, happily grooving along to some good music on your way to work, which will be productive and maybe even fun, with your wonderful colleagues. Then, you will get to pick him up and he will be so happy to see you that he will squeal with delight and all will be forgiven." But, your mushy heart says, "oh. my. god. How can you be doing this to Mr. Snuggles? I mean, it's Mr. Snuggles! He LOVES you more than anything else in the world and you are leaving him? It is against human nature what you are doing! Go back! Go BACK! No work could possibly be worth it!"
Fortunately, I don't have to endure tearful mornings with Peach because currently we are on a wonderful streak of her truly looking forward to seeing her teacher and sharing some good times with great friends. Two babes crying is, like, quadruply hard. But even if that were the case, there is that brainy brain part of me that would take over and as much as I would hate it, I would still "press on" and go to work.
This is the conversation with myself that occurs on a very regular basis: to work or not to work (and by work, I mean have a professional commitment outside of home because goodness knows, every mother works). And so the conversation continues...
