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Closeup of oil lamp.





Friday, January 6, 2006

I got up this morning and thought, hey, it's Friday! This was significant not because Friday represents the end of my work week, that day is actually Thursday, but because for the first time in like four months I knew what the hell day it was without checking a calendar.

I like the feeling of having structure to my days, I guess. I feel less fuzzy, more productive, when I'm forced to get up and get out, to put on actual clothes and wash my hair. I like talking with other people during the day. I like the fact that someone is actually paying me to do stuff.

I mean, I genuinely enjoyed being back at work this week. Which, wow, I did not predict that at all.

However, I fucking hated leaving Riley at daycare. That one was not so much a surprise, except for the part where I drove up to the daycare center and had this thought that I was maybe a bad person because I was positive I wasn't going to cry, I had absolutely no intention of crying, then I got in there and started to say goodbye to Riley and I suddenly began bawling so hard the nice lady that runs the place had to get me a whole box of kleenex and I cried all the way to work, and I am forbidden to say whether or not JB shed a few manly tears after visiting Riley at lunch, but let's just say the whole day was a little on the sad side.

We spent Wednesday evening going over our finances because both of us had decided we couldn't do it, we just couldn't leave him there where he wouldn't get rocked to sleep with our rocking chair, where no one would ask him did he poop his pants, where he probably spent the whole day sobbing inconsolably and being too upset to eat or sleep. Stressed and unhappy, we alternated between bickering with each other and smothering Riley with guilty affection.

(Oh, and then we watched Grizzly Man, which I highly recommend as a fantastic distraction from any unpleasantness you may be experiencing. Emotionally unbalanced man living among grizzly bears = cinematic gold. Unless you like really happy endings where the guy rides off on a magical bear with wings.)

So the next day; well, Thursday was just a million times better. I knew the routines of the daycare - here is where his bottles go, here is his drawer, here is his crib, here is how the swingamajig works - so I felt more comfortable there. Riley was contentedly sucking his lip and playing on the swing when I left. When JB picked him up, Riley was happy and full as a tick from a recent bottle. He was fine, he was fine.

I won't ever feel completely happy that he's away from us three days a week, but I think we're going to get more and more used to the new routine, and so will Riley. And I believe I'll have more to offer him, I'll feel more rounded and fulfilled this way.

It's going to work out well, I think. I hope.





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