Big Girl

Twelve weeks flew by so fast. My little girl has giggles, big smiles and lifts her head. She loves to kick the toys on her play mat and I swear she is trying to say, "Ma." Granted, I kneel over her every morning and repeat "Ma Ma" over and over again while she laughs at me. I have a feeling Da Da does the same thing when I'm not looking.

I have mixed feelings about returning to work tomorrow. I never thought I'd want to be a stay at home mom and for the first several weeks I knew I couldn't hack it. I wear high heels and yell at boys, I have big important meetings and fly places. Pony tails and pajamas until 3 pm? Not me.

Around week nine or ten, though, things changed. I started crying each time I would think about putting on my big girl shoes and leaving Livi to be cared for by someone else. I would imagine her feeling abandoned and shake my head, throat full of tears when Mr. J would try to talk about it. I just knew that her diaper wouldn't be changed right or her cries would not be translated correctly. There's the one when she's going to sleep and doesn't want to, the one when she just wakes up and really hasn't woken up yet. Oh and I can't forget the bloody murder scream just because.

No one else's neck is made of Ambien. No one else can get her to calm down like I can, to wrap one hand around their shoulder while the other taps their collar bone and she sighs contentedly, ready to give up the fight and let the Sand Man come and take her away.

I hired Livi's nanny, Sara, two weeks ago. I said it was so they could get used to each other. It was more so I could wean myself from my daughter and keep off the Xanax during my first week back to work.

I'm glad I did.

Sara's awesome. I love the way she talks to Livi, the way she tries to comfort her and the way she's already figuring out her cries. I love the way my little girl was holding brightly colored rings in her hands when I came home last week from running errands, "This is new!" I also, oddly, love that Livi now smiles when she sees Sara and tracks her across the room. I thought I'd be jealous, hurt, but I'm not. I want Livi to love all of her caregivers. I want to know that while I'm at work missing her, she's at home smiling, learning new things and becoming her own little girl, independent of me.

Then I'll come home, love her, hug her, play and when it is time we will snuggle in the big rocker, her nose to my neck and we'll sigh big contented sighs together.

Wish me luck tomorrow, kids. I'm already crying as I write this damn blog.