13 weeks later

Tomorrow is my first day back at work in 13 weeks. I am excited to be getting out of the house again, anxious about leaving my not-quite-3-month-old baby, and nervous I’m going to forget one of the thousand things I have to remember to take tomorrow for me and for two separate kid drop offs. I’ve missed my job and I’m looking forward to feeling accomplished, to setting goals, to wearing real clothes every day, to eating lunch at lunchtime. But the baby is unpredictable and high maintenance and I worry that no one who’s not me or Drew will be able to soothe her when she gets upset. The working parent struggle is real, and I’m simultaneously excited and terrified to begin it again.
  

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