I had my first day back at work this week. And it was... surprisingly enjoyable. I feel as if I shouldn't admit that, in case it exposes me as the evil baby-hating witch that I clearly am, but there you go. It was refreshing to actually use my brain for the first time in many, many months (dust actually fell out of my ears as the rusty old cogs started to grind again), and also deeply satisfying to be able to sit down and focus on one thing for more than half an hour, knowing I wasn't going to be interrupted by a demanding bratling at any moment. That's what I think is the most draining aspect of looking after a baby - the fact that you are constantly on call, and the minute you start trying to do something, thinking that surely they'll stay asleep for the next fifteen minutes... waaaaaaaaaaaah, there it is. They know, I swear. They know when you're poised over a mixing bowl, having just embarked on an overambitious culinary project; when you're naked in the shower with shampoo in your eyes and a razor about to slash your ankles open; when you've finally closed your eyes to attempt some sleep; when you're attempting to write a witty and entertaining blog po...
Sorry. Had to rush off there and fluff Lumpy's hair. Where was I? Oh, yes... work, right? A good thing, yes?
So I went into work, wearing proper trousers and not covered in baby sick and everything. It was only a KIT day (which sadly doesn't mean I got to play with the car from Knight Rider, but is rather more boringly a Keeping In Touch day. I do think a lot could be gained by allowing post-natal women to hang out with The Hoff, and will be suggesting it to the relevant authorities at the first opportunity. But for now, it just means you get to go into work for up to 10 days without ending your maternity leave. Yaaaaaaaaawn. I'd look dead good in a Baywatch bikini, too. Honest.)
Work had not changed much in my absence. This is because I work somewhere that hasn't really changed for the last few centuries, and darn well won't be changing for the next few hundred, thank you very much. They just about accept computers, but that's it. I managed to log in to my own magic haunted typing box (after about 45 minutes and a few calls to the surly nerds in technical support), eventually hunted down my email, and then spent a pleasant few hours pushing some words around, putting them on a spreadsheet, then taking them off again. It was just like old times. And no one demanded to suck on my boob or expected me to scrape and flick their poo down the toilet. Remarkable!
Lumpy was being looked after by Grandma Badger, who he clearly loves far more than me, because she pays him lots of attention and will happily sit cuddling him all day and not waste time doing pointless stuff like washing nappies and cooking dinner. He was utterly underwhelmed when I came home, and seemed to think I'd just been in the loo for a most of the day.
So it all went rather well. I'm aiming to do a day a week until I go back properly at the end of May. At which point it will all go horribly wrong because Lumpy will have to go to - choke, sob, waaaaaaah (that's all me, not him) - nursery, where they will clearly poke him with sticks and generally torture him. And I will sit at my desk and alternately weep and drool onto my keyboard until it short-circuits and burns the whole office to the ground. Which will frankly serve me right for thinking I can have it all.