Back to the Future

On Wednesday morning I had to go into the office to do important professional business*.

As I sped away on my bike, I caught a glimpse of FH in the kitchen, looking a little shell-shocked. Two hungry, vocal, undressed kids were romaing/writhing around him.
Ha! I thought, grinning wickedly. He's finally going to experience first-hand how tiring my life is!

I hadn't set foot in the office since the end of June. Three months in the baby bubble, and I was actually quite excited at the thought of being back in the "working world", if only for a morning.

Well, you know how sometimes you think you miss something (the buzz of an office; the satisfaction of being a working woman)?
And you know how sometimes you think you're fed up of something (changing nappies and making silly faces)?
Well, in all honesty, it took me all of five minutes to realise I was deluded.

My office suddenly seemed less a hotbed of decisionmaking and more a still-life painting on which a thick layer of dust has gathered. My colleagues were nice and friendly as always... but I found I struggled to even concentrate on conversations about possible new software programmes and the pitfalls and implications of a potential "major" office move (50 metres further down the corridor).
This is a time warp, I thought wildly, while outwardly I smiled and nodded and tried really hard not to gush and coo when asked how things were working out with the new baby (I failed. "It's wonderful! He's lovely! I love him so much, he makes the cutest faces!" I enthused, while eyes glazed over and heads nodded politely).

It was only when I was halfway home that I realised I'd been pedalling like a maniac.
Truth was: I couldn't wait to get back to my hungry, undressed kids: the noise, the commotion, the laughter, the bemused husband.

Turns out, FH discovered just how great my life is.
And I discovered that the best thing about going to work is... coming home.


* Ask HR to let me take 7 weeks holiday to extend my maternity leave until December. And select my company Christmas present from the catalogue.