Yesterday was my first day back after almost 14 months of maternity leave. Like a good return to work worker we were all in bed at a fairly reasonable time the night before (well, ok not really. But the intention was there!).
As luck would have it Baby Z decided it would be an opportune night to wake up at 4am to have a good play. Attempts to put him back to sleep failed miserably and by 6.15am we were all up, dressed and slightly giddy from the lack of sleep. As a result I bounded into an empty office at 8am and the rest of the day went something like this.
– Drinking countless cups of tea and then making countless trips to the loo.
– Trying very hard to remember people’s names.
[Thinks] I’m sure he’s called Gary. Gary. Definitely Gary…
… “Oh hello! Sorry, of course I meant to say Simon”
[Think]Shit. I could have sworn he was called Gary.
– Looking at self, impressed I have no baby sick, wee, food on clothes
– Thinking Gawd, I need a nap
– Resisting the strong urge to talk about Waybuloo/Dave Lamb-gate.
– Wondering what baby is up to
– Ringing mum to find out.
– Counting the number of times someone says “balls of steel” in different meetings.
– Wondering what’s happening in the Gilmore Girls
– Wondering how the hell I’m going to last another hour
– More tea
– Catching up with friends
– Looking a bit surprised at man who asked if I’ve had the baby.
– Driving to mums to pick up baby with visions of a joyful reunion where mummy gets showered with hugs and kisses from a happy baby.
– Greeted by a happy baby who points at me, smiles and crawls off! Huh.