First Person Friday: A Happy Day

A friend pointed out that there are very few first-person narratives — especially funny ones — by/for working mothers.  I’m making Friday my day for personal anecdotes, even though this kind of writing is not Mama Bee’s forte.  Bear with me, I’m trying something new!  Here’s the story of my return to work this week:

Monday was my first day back to work after having a baby 8 weeks ago.  In my zeal to get everything back to normal all at once, I also chose this week to launch a new exercise routine, try out a new babysitter, and use my new breastpump for the first time.  If a friend had called to ask me whether this was a good idea, I would have emphatically said no — but I didn’t seem to be able to apply the same logic to my own life.

Anyway, Monday started with squeezing myself into a new pair of Spanx pantyhose (the saving grace of new working mothers everywhere), and  rummaging through my closet trying to find non-maternity clothes that still fit.  I finally found a black wrap dress that was marginally appropriate and didn’t make me look more than four months pregnant.

My husband offered to dress our older son for school, and I was grateful.  Then I saw the outfit – crazy shirt, shorts too small, no socks.  Under duress, the boy agreed to change into new clothes as long as his Spiderman shirt was among the approved attire.  At breakfast Papa Bee cut our big boy’s bread.  Drama ensued, and a promise was made that we would never, ever, ever, ever cut bread in half again.  Papa and Baby went to school.

I dressed the baby, put him in our hummer of a stroller with diaper bag, breastpump, briefcase, umbrella, toys, extra clothes, glass bottles with two kinds of nipple, freezer bag with pumped milk, extra containers for pumping milk, medela wipes and microwave steam cleaning bags, baby carrier, stroller rain cover, last 2 New Yorker Magazines that I haven’t yet read, and handbag.  I wheeled the mammoth down the hall and realized that I’d forgotten my two cell phones.  Went back to retrieve phones, and headed to subway.  Realized I forgot my Metrocard.  Bought new card.

Fortunately both my station at home and work have elevators.  Fielded dirty looks from rush hour commuters who had to navigate around the stroller.  I met the sitter at the office, nursed, then she took over the baby.  I sat down at my computer and breathed a sigh of relief that the morning routine was over.

Then I looked at my email.  The first message was from my older son’s school reminding us that today was “Bring A Special Friend to School Day,” one of those events designed to make parents crazy.  I called my husband; he couldn’t get away.  I called my mother; she couldn’t get away.  I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to run over to the school from 1:30 to 3:00pm, requiring me to work additional hours the following day to get everything done.  I looked at the clock — it was already time to pump milk!

I pumped with my new fembot double pumping bra, worked, returned calls and emails that had built up over maternity leave.  At noon, our sitter brought the baby back to nurse.  After nursing I cuddled for a few minutes, then turned baby back over to sitter and buckled down to write a proposal.  An hour later it was time to run to the big boy’s school.

Seeing the smile on the big boy’s face when I showed up was a terrific shot in the arm.  He showed me all around his classroom, we laughed and participated in circle time and other activities.  After exactly the right amount of time the teachers sent us back to work, which almost made me forgive them for having a special friend day in the first place.

I grabbed a salad and ran back to the office where I had two meetings lined up.  While pumping, I checked my email and saw that Senator Harry Reid’s office had written to suggest I join a small group of bloggers talking with the Senator about family policy.  Wow!  EXCITED, EXCITED….then realized that I had a meeting at the same time as the call…downer.  Wrote back declining, ran to two meetings, got back to my office just in time to meet the sitter and get the baby.

Ran home to pick up the big boy.  Put both boys in the tub, started dinner for Papa Bee and myself, got everyone into pajamas.  Cuddled with boys, read stories, laughed.  Suddenly felt that all was right in the world: my boys were safe and happy; I got work done; childcare is working out and I can see my new baby during the day; a Senator thought my opinions were important; I pumped 10 oz. of milk; the baby took the bottle from the sitter; a good dinner was cooking.  Days like today make me happy.