Sundays are bittersweet days. On one hand, it's a day off, and therefore enjoyable. On the other hand, the inevitability of Monday lurks just a few hours away, spreading gloom like a creeping fog. Okay, that might be a little bit melodramatic. Still, there is a certain melancholy associated with Sunday nights (at least for me). I love my job, but I savor every precious minute that I can spend with my family, and it always makes me sad when our weekends together come to an end.
Why am I writing a post about Sunday nights on a Wednesday? Because tonight is kind of like the ultimate Sunday night for me. Tomorrow, I head back to work after a wonderful four months spent at home with my children. I'm feeling a magnified version of that Sunday night feeling tonight, and just felt the need to write about it.
Don't get me wrong; I love my job. I feel very fortunate that I am able to work with the amazing kids at my school, challenge my creativity and problem solving skills every day, and work with some amazing professionals. Since staying at home is not a financially viable option for my family, I am incredibly lucky that I have a job I enjoy, and not one that I just "have to do". However, the fact that I have a great job doesn't change the fact that I miss my kids like crazy while I'm doing it.
This "back to school" is a little harder than it has been in previous years. Cadence, at almost three years old, really understands what is happening. As of now, she is NOT happy about Mommy going back to work. She will be fine once she gets into the swing of the school year, especially since she will be with her daddy every day, but the transition is going to be rough. My little Bennett Boy has never been in daycare; I've never left him for more than an hour or two before. I worry about how he will do in the new environment. I worry that my happy, easy-going, chunky little love might be somehow changed by me not being with him all day every day. The rational side of my personality tells me that he will be just fine. Unfortunately, the over-emotional, rampaging mama-bear side of me is screaming "I CAN'T LEAVE MY BABY!!!" Hopefully the rational side wins out on Monday when I take Bennett to daycare for the first time so that I don't have to be escorted off the property.
Sometimes the anticipation of something unpleasant winds up being worse than the actual event itself. I hope that's the case in this situation. Regardless, tomorrow I officially return to "working mom" status. Tomorrow, I will be cheerful, energetic, and organized. I will be ready to get started on a brand new school year, put my best foot forward, and do everything in my power to make a difference in the lives of some terrific kids. But tonight, I'm going to allow myself to wallow just a little bit longer in the sadness of that Sunday night feeling.
Why am I writing a post about Sunday nights on a Wednesday? Because tonight is kind of like the ultimate Sunday night for me. Tomorrow, I head back to work after a wonderful four months spent at home with my children. I'm feeling a magnified version of that Sunday night feeling tonight, and just felt the need to write about it.
Don't get me wrong; I love my job. I feel very fortunate that I am able to work with the amazing kids at my school, challenge my creativity and problem solving skills every day, and work with some amazing professionals. Since staying at home is not a financially viable option for my family, I am incredibly lucky that I have a job I enjoy, and not one that I just "have to do". However, the fact that I have a great job doesn't change the fact that I miss my kids like crazy while I'm doing it.
This "back to school" is a little harder than it has been in previous years. Cadence, at almost three years old, really understands what is happening. As of now, she is NOT happy about Mommy going back to work. She will be fine once she gets into the swing of the school year, especially since she will be with her daddy every day, but the transition is going to be rough. My little Bennett Boy has never been in daycare; I've never left him for more than an hour or two before. I worry about how he will do in the new environment. I worry that my happy, easy-going, chunky little love might be somehow changed by me not being with him all day every day. The rational side of my personality tells me that he will be just fine. Unfortunately, the over-emotional, rampaging mama-bear side of me is screaming "I CAN'T LEAVE MY BABY!!!" Hopefully the rational side wins out on Monday when I take Bennett to daycare for the first time so that I don't have to be escorted off the property.
Sometimes the anticipation of something unpleasant winds up being worse than the actual event itself. I hope that's the case in this situation. Regardless, tomorrow I officially return to "working mom" status. Tomorrow, I will be cheerful, energetic, and organized. I will be ready to get started on a brand new school year, put my best foot forward, and do everything in my power to make a difference in the lives of some terrific kids. But tonight, I'm going to allow myself to wallow just a little bit longer in the sadness of that Sunday night feeling.
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