Had interviews this morning and am feeling a little torn.
I don't think I really want to go back to work.
I don't think I'm ready.
And I know this is something Amy's been telling me for a while, but I'm admittedly a little slow on the uptake sometimes. (I was totally that one person who didn't know Bruce Willis was dead in the 6th Sixth Sense right up until the moment that he realized it.)
It did feel good, though, to have adult conversations again about something more than a retelling of how many time-outs the kids' got or how much of their breakfast/lunch/dinner they did or didn't eat. And it did feel good to not feel completely out of place. To feel comfortable with my accomplishments and confident in my own abilities. And to know that they'd be lucky to have me.
But then I left the interviews and went straight to pick up the kids. He grabbed onto my leg and she gave me a huge bear hug. They taught me a new song on the way home and we spent the afternoon rubbing balloons on our heads to generate enough static to balance them for a few seconds.
And no, it's not all peaches and cream, and yes, there was a significant amount of 'please just finish your homework!' and 'stop talking with your mouths full!' and 'brushing your teeth involves actually MOVING the toothbrush back and forth in your mouth!' but I'd be a complete idiot if I said I wouldn't miss this.