I went back to work this week.
I've been working part-time (very part-time) all along but this is the first I've worked full-time since before Miss Rosey was born.
And while it feels awesome! and very grown-up! and it's nice to talk to adults all day! and do things! That aren't necessarily kid-related! it feels STRANGE to leave the household in Bear's (admittedly capable) hands.
Now he's making supper, getting the kids off to school and making them do their homework at night, listening to stories about their days and doling out snacks. Yesterday he mixed up a batch of bread dough for me, had supper waiting in the pot when I got home, and had done a load of laundry and washed the dishes.
It was nice (heaven!) to come home to but it felt...odd, you know? To walk in and hear that the homework was done and here-have-your-supper and realize that another adult had very competently taken over my mom and homemaker duties. Odd...and displaced.
Yes, I know that I'm special to my kids, and that no one can take my place in their hearts. This post isn't about that. It's about feeling maybe that the world isn't going to stop if I'm not in the house, or if I'm not the one serving up snacks and stories, and how that makes me feel.
Smaller, a bit, and glad that they're with someone who loves them so much, and still....a bit displaced.
(Note: This is a three-month term position which may or may not be extended. Hats off (really, I mean that) to moms and dads and single parents everywhere who do this full-time, all the time.)