Back to life, back to reality

I would send you a bouquet of newly-sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address. On the other hand, this not knowing has its charms.

-You've Got Mail

Yesterday I went back to work.  The date has been on my calendar since July and yet somehow it took me completely by surprise.  There was so much I had planned on doing during maternity leave.

1. Completely bond with recently made tiny human
2. Start an exercise program
3. Look into crock potting
4. Find out if that smell is me or something under the house
5. File away errant paperwork
6. Finish season five of Breaking Bad

Alas, none of it happened (here's hoping there's something under the house).  But despite the tiny sense of uneasiness that comes from unfinished projects, I met the day with a good deal of excitement.  I happen to like what I do and on the rare occasion someone lets me do it, I generally have a good time.

I felt like a kid on her first day of school.  Sure it's sad vacation is over but there's so much "new" involved in the first day you can't help but get into it!  I had an outfit pre picked out - post natal spanks and layers of black to conceal my girth.  I packed my bag the night before - 2 copies of the script, 3 pencils, 1 highlighter...10 breast shields, 2 pump flanges, 8 milk pump bags and 1 hooter hider.   I met all the new people in the office and felt like we were all going to be friends forever!

And, much like a kid on her second day of school, the charm had completely worn off.  There may have been spit up on my outfit.  I forgot all but one set of breast shields (and no, that did not work out well for my satin shirt that already had spit up on it).  The people started to pick their clicks - actors with actors, wardrobe with wardrobe, guys who make lots of balls and penis jokes with guys who make lots of balls and penis jokes, and I with the moms. 

We just found each other.  Maybe it's a subconcious recognition of another who barely gets any sleep.  Or an olfactory response to the smell of kraft macaroni and cheese powder permanently imbedded on the other woman's skin.  Or simply an acknowledgement that no matter how much any of us love what we do and appreciate the chance to do it, one eye is always on our phone in case there's a problem at home.

I'm going to belong to my click proudly though.  In the past, being a parent, having to make excuses to get to a pediatrician's office or a school play, felt like a burden.  Now, however, working on a show about OB/Gyns, being a parent and a woman who recently went through the birthing process is like a badge of honor. 

And being able to pitch a joke about our lead OB/Gyn getting shat on during a delivery right before his big date because I lived it, is like being the mayor.