Some days I feel like I really have my shit together and that I’m balancing this whole working mother thing just fine. Then other days I hear "Cat's in the Cradle" on the radio on the way in to daycare/work and I think "VERY SUBTLE, UNIVERSE. THANKS A LOT" and the media planner in me thinks that the jackasses at KRTH should NEVER play that song during morning drive time, lest the commuting mothers of Los Angeles rise up and storm the station in protest. Some other days I want to burst into tears just sitting here at my godforsaken desk staring at this accursed screen all day.
Like today, when my baby woke up with a slight fever at 3am and then was fussy and in and out of sleep until 5:20, when he was up for the day. And he was better - normal, even - so I took him to daycare, and then when we got there he just wanted to crawl up on me and snuggle on my chest and didn’t want his bottle, didn't want me to leave. And I just wanted to whisk him away and play peekaboo and read books and bounce balls and go for walks and point at dogs and birds together all day.
But I can’t. Because it’s a busy time of year, and I have work to do. So I’m here. And he’s there. Right down the street, and yet so far away.