Today I have a sick baby hanging out with me as I go about my day. Mr Hippo in hand, dummy firmly in mouth and head gently resting on her Mamma's back. Her nose is full of snot and she sounds ever so slightly like a Pug dog as she sniffs and snuffles her way through slumber. And while I am so happy to know that just being with me is enough to make her feel a bit better, this was not what I had planned for today. Nor this week, for that matter. Oh no! This week was about getting the car fixed, buying safety gear for our soon-to-be second vehicle (a putt-putt motorbike), storing up breastmilk in carefully labelled bottles and orientating Emilia into childcare. This week was supposed to be about getting everything ready for me to go back to work.
I do not feel great about going back to work. It is necessary and I know once I am there I will enjoy oiling the intellectual cogs in my brain and using skills that I had previously worked so hard to acquire. Mattthias will start looking after Emilia one day a week, which I think they will both love (no pesky Mamma poking her head in wondering if everything is okay) and eventually Emilia will love childcare. Over all her toys and the games that we play at home, her most favourite thing in the world is visiting people. No matter where we go if there's someone about she'll lean in towards them and give them a big gummy smile. She will love the opportunity of playing with other kids at childcare. And she will still hang out with Mamma or Papa four days a week. It will be okay. It might even be great. But right now it all seems too much. Right now she's nestled on my back sleeping and there's no where else I'd rather her be.