I don't need to tell any of you how difficult Mondays (or whatever day you start your work week) are. This is not news. In fact, no fewer than 16,000 images of Garfield sharing his disdain for this particular day of the week can be found when the phrase I hate Mondays" is Googled.
I was always pretty indifferent to Monday. I enjoyed my job and generally looked forward to each new week. I certainly haven't given much thought to them since I've been on medical leave. Over the last eight weeks that's changed. Buy me a Garfield poster I am an official (albeit, temporary) Monday hater. I have so much empathy for parents whose jobs take them away from home for extended periods of time. Even though I am secure in the idea the skills I am gaining outweighs the effects of my absence it is torture not seeing my daughter's impish smile on a daily basis. Spend less than 48 hours with Emeline and Josh on the weekend is dreadful. Mondays become even more difficult after we’ve spent a wonderful weekend together.
That's the trouble I had with spending such a wonderful weekend with my two favorite people. When I returned - alone - to my hotel room yesterday evening, I was shocked by the silence and loneliness that enveloped me. I felt as if I had just spent the weekend pretending that Josh and I were a normal family on vacation. Kalamazoo was our destination and visiting friend, trying new restaurants, drinking in the afternoon, wandering aimlessly through various neighborhoods and local shops were all part of the experience. For the first time in weeks, I felt as if I was choosing to spend time here based on want, not necessity. As enjoyable as our weekend together was the underlying anxiety of our current familial situation was never completely able to be denied.
The reality is that we have a lot of decisions to make as a family over the next few months. The majority of them have to be made because of my vision and ability (or lack thereof) to independently navigate the current community in which we reside. Where we should relocate or even if we can is only the tip of the iceberg of uncertainties that wake me at 3 in the morning. The responsibility I feel to make the best decision is overwhelming. I know that I should focus on what I can control and leave what I can't to rest, but I have opportunities that could become reality if I place all the puzzle pieces in the right place. I can't wait to reenter the real world - cook my own meals, sleep in my own bed, and be a mom and wife 7 days a week. As excited as I am to do all these things a big part of me is dreading the unavoidable reality check that is coming my way.