Big Fat Pity Party

So this is going to be a bit of a pity party--be prepared. . .


How did I get to be a full-time employee in a Corporate (with a capital C) company? How did I go from poo foot and puke on my sweatpants to PowerPoint and ID badges? And how do I deal with the overwhelming and crushing guilt that keeps me up at night?

Oh wait, it is really QT who is still keeping me up at night because I have yet to cut the cord and make sure he is put back in his bed after each feeding. I usually wake up in the morning with him wedged in my armpit, while I have contorted my body into something that resembles both the fetal position and a backbend.

I am not sure if I was mentally prepared for this big of a change in my life. I am not sure I will ever be able to adjust to the role of "working" mother, because clearly, I was barely holding it together when I was working part-time. As my sister, who has it much more together than I ever will--with two-kids, a very demanding work schedule and who is on the partner track at her law firm told me--"this is just your new normal."

I wish there was a summer vacation involved.

I wish there were mornings where I didn't have to kick QT off the boob in order to get in the shower on time, mornings where I didn't have to leave before the Ladies woke up.

I wish that I had more than two pairs of pants, two pairs of flats and three cardigans that are work appropriate. I wish that three of those things weren't right now sitting on my dresser covered in baby puke.

I wish that after I paid the sitters there was something to show for it (perhaps a new shirt, because seriously, it is getting pretty dire, I really was wearing entirely too many pairs of yoga pants and until I drop the last of the baby weight, I am not squeezing in, sausage style, to some of my sweaters.)

I wish that 10-3 was the standard work day.

I wish that the copious amounts of peanut M&M's I have consumed in the last few weeks to combat my stress didn't taste so delicious.

I wish that all the Halloween parades and playdates and school events that I will miss in the next few weeks and months and years will be worth it.

and

I wish that my "new normal" affords us the opportunity to grow as a family, to take advantage of the time we do have together, and for me to provide the purple room with the bunkbeds that the Lady wants and a yard for her to run and run and run.