Back to school...

I knew this day would come, but that doesn't make it any easier.  When I was at home with a two-week old, getting to stay at home with him for four months felt like an eternity.  Surely, I thought, it will be easy then.  He'll be bigger, in a routine, and I may even be ready for a break...

It wasn't.  An eternity, I mean.  It was a nanosecond.  And now it's already time for me to return to work.  It's time for us to assume what will be our "normal" for at least the next few years.  Looking back on my time home with my little bug, I know that there were afternoons when all I needed to do was fold laundry or clean house, and all Collier wanted me to do was hold him.  Most of the time, I held him.  I'm glad I did. 

As we approach this milestone, I have two conflicting arguments going on in my heart and my head.  My rational, logical side says I'll be a better mom for working outside the home.  I'll appreciate my time with both my guys.  I'll get to have adult conversations.  Reason argues that I love my job, and I'm good at it, and I feel that it's what God has called me to do. The other side says that God has also called me to be a mom.  That no one knows better than me how to take care of my boy.  This irrational side also cries in fear that he won't need me as much.  That he'll be spending more of his waking hours with his babysitter than with me.  That he'll favor her over me.  A little broken piece of my heart is scared that if I'm not the one there for every nap, every smile, every feeding, everything, that I'll miss something.  Or everything.  I guess that's the life of a mom, right?  Forever wondering if you did the right thing.  

I know that, in a week or two, this will become routine.  I know we'll all be better for it.  If we can just get through tomorrow...