Image courtesy Southern Methodist University,
Central University Libraries, DeGolyer Library via Flickr Commons
I've gone back to work for three days a week. I had an entire year of maternity leave, and even though it was the shortest year of my life, it feels like forever since I've sat at a desk. The first week it felt like I was doing some strange new exercise, sitting and typing instead of the usual laying on the floor/crawling on hands and knees/carrying a ten-kilo baby on my hip while I try to fill a kettle. Also I can wear jewellery, as temptingly shiny and dangly as I like, and there is no-one to try to pull it off or eat it! Three days is an excellent number of days to work. It's enough for me to feel grateful that I get the rest of the week with Peanut, and the four days with him is juuust enough to make me feel grateful to go to work.
Peanut is 11 months old and is developing so fast it's daunting.
He loves buses and blueberries and balls and books and probably also things that don't start with B but I can't think of them right now. If you say "Cheeky grin!" he gurns manically and shows you all six teeth. If he enters a room with a fan, he will spot it immediately and let you know it is off and probably needs to be turned on. He is affectionate and he loves seeing photos of himself and when his father or I walk into the room he smiles like he hasn't seen us for days. Looking at this photo and thinking about him is making me miss him and want to scoop him up and kiss him. I keep thinking, I don't want him to get any older! But then he does and he's even more beautiful and interesting and fun. It's tiring feeling so many different things at once.