I'm with sandyballs on this one. (There's a phrase that I never expected to utter.. what a monicker, sb)
I thought that I would probably want to never work again once I had dd. Thought I'd spend my life going to parties and restaurants (Ha ha) with beaming, laid back baby on my hip. We'd present a united front to the world and nothing would ever get us down, so wrapped up in love were we! I'd probably never want to go back to work again...
I thought I'd never get angry and that the crying of my baby would never make me feel like chucking out of the window. (She wouldn't cry much anyway because they don't if they're happy do they? And why wouldn't she be happy?I'd make her happy)
The reality? I stayed at home for ten months which was as long as I could possibly stand. I was appalled by my general lack of patience and my general obsessing every single time she cried. (Perhaps she was hungry after all even though she'd just eaten, tired even though she'd just slept, perhaps...perhaps...oh I don't know...I must be a crap mother)
I couldn't wait to get back to work and when I left the house for the first time I actually had a spring in my step. The freedom! Just a little handbag with a purse and keys in...
Now she's fifteen months old I think I might actually be shaping up to be an okay mother. I'm learning to be more patient, my guilt has subsided and we are completely wrapped up in love with each other. I have also stopped guilt tripping myself about wanting to work too. I'm a better mother for going to work, no doubt about it...