The More Things Change, The More They Stay The Same

The fact that I am writing this post proves that I have survived my first week back at work and will live to write another tale. Returning to work was, to me, synonymous with sequestration. I was pretty sure the oceans would rise, the earth would tremble, and life as I knew it would cease to exist. Imagine my surprise when I woke up this morning and realized that the world is still intact. That although everything is different, it is all strangely still the same.

That's not to say there weren't tears. Boy, were there buckets of tears. The baby terrorist, of course, took it all in stride. I was the basket case. The minute I handed her over to the nanny, I was horrified to hear the embarrassing choking sound as I tried to swallow my emotions and instead succumbed to a tsunami of tears. The nanny won me over when she didn't immediately roll her eyes and say something snarky but rather enveloped me in a huge hug and told me we could face time.

I didn't suck it up right away. I allowed myself to wallow and lament the unfairness of the universe for a good two hours. I let my mind wander and began to imagine that the baby terrorist was already walking in the short time I was away from her. The baby with two teeth at a mere 4 1/2 months is kind of an overachiever, so this concept is not far fetched. The incessant worry that she might really take to the nanny and decide she wanted to live with her instead consumed my mind more than once. As I attempted to wade through a million missed emails sent over my four month absence, I was struck by the concept that life really does go on, with or without me.

It seems I have a bit of a superiority complex which manifests itself in such a manner that I truly believe that all life stops when I'm not there. It's like everything else freezes until I return to breathe life back into the routine. Yet while I was quite literally bringing a life into this world, emails were being sent regarding all sorts of fun employment related topics, droning on as if nothing short of a miracle was occurring right at that very moment in a San Diego hospital room. And as I was struggling to understand my new role as a mother, emails were still being sent as if I had never worked there. While I was sleep deprived and learning to translate all the complexities and terror tactics the baby had hidden up her very small, sweet sleeve, the world outside my small center was spinning exactly as it had before everything changed.

If that doesn't humble the flip flops off an overly sensitive Virgo, I don't know what will.

Perhaps this is a lesson in learning to let go. Learning that I don't have to precariously perch the cumbersome worry on my hunching shoulders that the world will stop spinning simply because I can't be everywhere and everything at the same time. Understanding that part of being a mother is providing more than just a presence. Because, whether I choose to accept it or not, the baby rather likes the nanny. I kind of like her too. I wouldn't mind spending a day in her care, as a matter of fact. The reality remains that I have to work. And so the world turns, life goes on and the crazy becomes the new normal.

It's as different as it comes, and yet it's the same as it ever was.