What a Spaz

After four very fast months at home with Millie, I will be rejoining the academic world next week. I took the fall semester off to have and stay home with Millie. It's been the best four months of my life, but now I have to face the archaeology music and get back to work. I am so lucky that I have been able to stay home so long, so I need to stop whining about returning. I am writing not really to whine but as a distraction.

I am only in school two days a week, so instead of the dreaded daycare, I hired one of my former students, who I adore, to watch Millie at our apartment. My poor Millie has her first cold and is not terribly comfortable. Not that I would be if someone was shoving a bulb syringe up my nose every few minutes and sucking what feels like my brains out. She has been wicked fussy all day. Now, my poor day care provider came this afternoon to get used to her with me here if I'm needed. I am hiding in my bedroom out of sight, but can still hear her crying. My babysitter is perfectly capable of taking care of her, but so is my husband and I snatch her away from him when she's fussy all the time. It is taking everything in my lactating power not to go out there and get her settled. Not that she hasn't been crying all morning for me, too. I sit her concocting all sorts of excuses to wander out. I don't think I'll last much longer.