Technically, I go back to work in one month. From today.
I have one of those love/hate relationships with my job. I love how fun it is - jetsetting across the country, meeting new co-workers every trip. If I find I don't like someone I work with, I probably will never work with them again. I don't have to deal with them in the cubicle next door everyday. In fact, I don't have a cubicle. I have a long metal tube that goes hurtling through the sky at 400+ miles an hour.
On the other hand, if I work with someone I like, I may never see them again. It's tough making friends when half the people you work with commute in - and not from the other side of town, but from New Mexico, or Utah or Colorado. A little too far to have them over for drinks and dessert.
Plus there is the little fact that I have to leave my family. Whether for one day or three, I have to leave. I get on a plane and fly across the country, leaving my husband and children behind.
Two years ago, when I headed back to work after Bjorn was born, he got sick on my second trip away. Real sick. 104 fever, and The Hubs was called at work to pick him up from daycare.
I was in Nashville, a 4 hour flight home, but with no way to get home. Because of the time difference, by the time I found out about it, the last flight that could have flown me home had left already. I was stuck in Nashville, thousands of miles from home, and thousands of miles from my firstborn son and his first huge illness.
I don't even remember what it turned out to be - teething, a cold. . something like that.
I do remember sitting outside my hotel, on the curb, crying as I waited for the phone call from The Hubs after Bjorn's doctors visit.
And that is only one of the things I don't like about my job.
But, overall, I enjoy it. I like that it brings in a little income for us, that it gives me a little time away, and that I don't have to bring it home with me. Once I am home, I am done with work.
I like that.
So, I do have to go back to work. The date is rapidly approaching.
And I am pretty sure that The Hubs has not been alone with both kids for more than an hour by himself.
Not because he can't handle it, but just because I know that it is easier to just have one kid than both, so when I go out, I take Peanut with me. She's easy by herself - with no big brother screaming when he talks and trying to constantly tickle her, she sleeps the whole time.
Not this week, though.
It's been 6 months since I got my haircut and it is in desperate need of some repair. I have an appointment to cut and color and that means The Hubs gets both kids. By himself.
I didn't think he would do ok with it, but today has changed my mind. Today, when Peanut cried, he jumped to it. Took her and rocked her to sleep. Three different times. Which gave me some awesome one-on-one time with Bjorn, something I had wanted even more desperately than I wanted a hair cut.
And I want a hair cut bad.
Anyways. . . . . I think he can handle it when I start working again.
But just to make sure, I'm making a few late night appointments these next few weeks. Hair cut. Pedicure. Moms Night Out.
Good luck, Hubs!