The guilt

The guilt is eating me alive. I have come full circle it would seem. From being eager and excited to get back to work, to feeling the awful mummy guilt of leaving my little lady day after day. The only thing that takes the edge off it is knowing that she is with family and that she is happy when she is there. But it’s the getting her there and waving goodbye in the mornings that’s hard. Knowing some mornings that she is still tired and would much rather sleep than being coaxed awake by mummy who “has to go to work”, but who knowingly and guiltily made the choice to go back to work. I know in the back of my mind that she is fine and that this is fine, that its good for her to spend some time away from me and the husband, socialising, playing and learning to be with others even if it is family. I know that this is the right thing for our family from a financial perspective and I know that I needed to go back to work for me. It was and still is the right decision on the whole. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling terrible some mornings when I can see that the little lady doest really feel like getting up, or getting dressed. I was certainly under no illusions this morning that it was one of those days, when she refused to kiss or say goodbye to me as daddy whisked her out the door. As I start to get back into the routine of it all, as I start to get fall back into the monotony of it all, I can’t help but ask myself whether I could have compromised more. Whether I could have considered the options more. A full time new job doesn’t leave much time for anything. Out the door at 8am and back in at 7pm. That’s a long day, even for me. But isn’t this what everyone does? Isn’t this the norm? Isn’t this reality? Isn’t this everyone’s story almost? I love my little lady and I love working, and somehow, someway we seem to have found a way to make it all work. But something still doesn’t feel quite right. Something feels out of balance. Something is making me feel a little bit guilty..

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