Back to the Grind

After a four-month-long hiatus, I traded in my sweatpants for slacks and went back to work. Did you know that it's possible for a pre-verbal baby to pull a guilt trip on you? As I was leaving, I went to give Benjamin a good-bye kiss. Before I could even get close, a look of such disappointment, disapproval, and despondency crossed his chubby face that I simply turned tail and ran into the elevator to hide from him.

Despite the soul-crushing shunning I received from my son, it was really nice to see my coworkers and friends, especially since they welcomed me back with a hearty breakfast. I started to ravage the spread like a feral pig when I suddenly realized, "I don't have to inhale my food since there's no baby to rush back to!" And an hour later, I realized that yet another benefit of being at work was the freedom to use the loo whenever I wanted to. Wow! No need to ignore my bodily functions until I was on the verge of kidney failure! I started to have hope that being away from Benjamin wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.

That changed at about 9:30 am while I was chatting with coworkers in the file room. Talk turned to the baby, and I excitedly began describing every infinitely fascinating detail of his existence - his adorable cooing, his chubby fists, his delicious baby smell, his-- Suddenly, my chest started to swell like two water balloons at a Fourth of July pool party. I frantically tried to divert my thoughts to other topics - office gossip, Barack Obama, whatever - but the harder I tried to not think about Benjamin, the more I did. I felt like a prepubescent boy trapped in line behind the hottest girl in the seventh grade with no binder to hide his growing-- You get the picture. I ran out of the file room clutching my chest, and made a beeline for my pump. This scenario would play itself out about three more times every day for the rest of the week.

One thing that I really did miss about my working life (aside from my awesome job, fabulous company, and incredible, wonderful, gorgeous boss, of course!!) was the Friday Knitting Group. On Friday, as Lisa and I got our needles out, she told me how her cat had ruined a considerable portion of her stash by peeing all over a container full of yarn. I started to laugh when I realized that there was any number of ways the same thing could happen to me. A disgruntled pug with an eye for revenge. A naked baby mid-diaper change. Or even a sudden attack of Benjamin nostalgia while I'm winding my yarn. Guess I won't be knitting any baby things while I'm away at work!