It’s (almost) off to work I go. In 60 days, actually, and I’m counting every last second I have to spend with my little monkey/vampire/lovie/screaming banshee before I’ll be away from him for 40 hours a week.
Every time I think about this, which is all too often, my heart breaks all over again.
There’s no way around it, we can’t swing it financially to live on one salary. He will be well cared for, which is comforting, but it still doesn’t make up for the fact that I will only get to spend 2 full days a week with my son.
Most Mom’s have to work these days, I’m not the first and I will not be the last. If other women can survive this, then I’m sure I can too.
But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. And I don’t like it. Not one little bit.