Tomorrow, I go to work. I haven’t worked a Monday since my return from maternity leave. At the time, 32 hours a week was enough, and I was able to spend an extra day with Abby. Just her and I…Abby/Mama day.

Granted lately, it’s been more like Abby/Mama/Laundry day, or Abby/Mama/Clean the House day. We were still spending time with each other, she’d help me “fold” laundry, or come with me to the grocery store. It was time I cherished, though.

It never occurred to me that I was essentially taking a 20% paycut by not being at work that one day a week. I mean, I *knew* it, but I didn’t really feel it. Now? I feel it. I’ve been struggling to stay above water financially. I’m not in trouble, but I feel like I’ll be there soon if I don’t fix something. So, I decided to go back to work full time.

I technically started back full time last Monday (Labor Day)…which was awesome. Do you know how many holidays fall on Mondays? Pretty much all of them. I haven’t gotten paid for a Monday holiday since 2010.

However, tomorrow I actually have to go to work. Abby actually has to go to daycare. I haven’t really brought it up to her. (Which should really come to no surprise to her since she graduated to preschool last Wednesday and I had no idea. Like – I brought her to her old classroom, only to find all the shit in her cubby, in fact her cubby itself was not there anymore. NO IDEA THIS WAS HAPPENING.) I feel like she might be okay with it, as long as I don’t do something stupid like say “Hey! Instead of Abby/Mama day – you’re going to daycare today. And every Monday from here on out! Yay!”

Although I lost sleep over it last night, I think tomorrow will be okay. I’m going to attempt to ignore the fact that I’m PMSing and I’m probably going to cry, but I’ll be okay! RIGHT?! RIGHT.