Returning to Work

I'm stressed at the thought of returning to work in a day. My shoulders are knotted and I can't sleep, despite a long day of endless laundry, cleaning, dealing with the kids and a sick husband. With previous maternity leaves, I think I was excited about the prospect of going back to office, to re-entering the world of adult conversations, and feeling like I was once again using my brain for something other than answering my kids' questions about why the sky is blue and how do clouds stay afloat. Not this time.
I've started to prepare for my return. I've taken an armload of suits to the dry-cleaners, and washed my dress shirts. I had my ever supportive spouse take me back-to-work shopping for some new outfits. While I was temporarily excited about returning to the office so I could wear the new duds, the euphoria faded away.
I'm probably a bit nervous about jumping back into my career. It's been almost 13 months and I'm sure the law has developed and changed while I was gone. I remember vaguely skimming a few articles in the paper about some Supreme Court decisions, but about what exactly, I couldn't tell you. Going back to work is probably like riding a bicycle, but right now, I don't think I could handle a tricycle.
While I am looking forward to seeing my good friends on a regular basis again, I'm reluctant to leave my comfortable world of school drop-offs and pick-ups, an hour of watching The Chew, trying out new recipes and hanging out with Quinn. I'll be the first to admit that staying-at-home would not be a good fit with me. I know I need to be away from the kids to appreciate them that much more, and I am a much happier person when I do work. Not that I haven't been gloriously happy this past year. But knowing that Quinn is my last baby, I think I really took the time to cherish the year off. I loved the walks to and from school, except when the one or more of the kids were cranky and displaying poor behaviour. I looked forward to afternoon naps with Quinn on the couch. I enjoyed the help of assistant Aisling when I baked cookies. If I could balance the working life with the home life, then I probably wouldn't be so stressed about returning to the office.
And there in lies the real issue - can I actually handle working while raising four children and maintaining a good relationship with my spouse? I'm not suggesting that staying at home would make my marriage grand. In fact, I'm sure my spouse would be the first to agree that having me at work would be a plus. Not only financially, but he does know that I love my job - most days. Besides, there were many, many days when the relationship was strained - a combination of no sleep, little patience, whining and misbehaving children and a baby that needed to be nursed every two hours. As I've stated in previous posts, my spouse is a very hands-on dad, and generally helpful around the house too. But let's face it, he's had pretty much a free ride this past year with household chores. It'll take some weeks for adjusting for him as well when I go back to work, and I know there will be a few sessions nagging on my part.
When I think of throwing 50 plus hours of "real" work, into the mix of endless loads of laundry, grocery shopping, meal preparations, nightly baths, homework supervision, to name a few....well, my heart starts to race, my shoulders start to creep up to my neck, and I'm sure I've sprouted a few more grey hairs. The thought of advance meal preparation for our busier nights paralyzes me and so, it's probably a good thing I've been batch cooking and freezing meals for the past month. I know we've managed in the past when I've returned to work, but it feels like our lives have gotten exponentially busier in the past year. Tae Kwon Do two nights a week, piano lessons, Cubs, dance lessons, hockey, swimming...
Yes, I could lessen the stress and take the kids out of the activities, but that really wouldn't be fair to them. Besides on the nights the three older kids have Tae Kwon Do with their dad, Quinn and I get a few hours to ourselves.
And then there's Quinn. I don't know how both of us will handle the separation in a day. We haven't been apart more than a few hours in the past. With the holidays, we weren't apart more than an hour at most. That also meant weaning did not go as planned. With his strong will and refusal to take more than a sip of milk from a cup, I know we are in trouble come Tuesday. Or at least my breasts will be. I do believe he knows something is afoot. Whenever I disappear from his line of sight, he panics. I went into the garage to toss out the recycling, and he started crying while making a bee line to the garage door. The other day I went out grocery shopping. His dad returned from Devlin's hockey camp before I did. When he realized that only Daddy was coming in, and no one else, he began bawling. Upon my return, there was happy babbling and eager arms reaching out to grab my legs.
With all of these factors, I am less than enthusiastic about facing my inevitable return to the world of paid work. In fact, I down-right glum, and eating lots of cookies to deal with my emotions. Which is not a good thing. Maybe I'll pour myself a glass of wine once my little lambs are asleep and hope it puts me to sleep too.