Working mama

I worked until 7pm tonight, which means Ava was already asleep by the time I got home. This was the first time I missed out on seeing her before bedtime.

So, when she inevitably cried shortly before 8pm, it took all my self-control not to be like, "I will go! I will hold her! We will cuddle!"

No.

Be strong.

...I was. I let her cry it out for about 20 min until I went up there, pat her back 5 times and she passed out. It took all of two minutes. (Mostly because I lingered.)

And that's when I realized how I am simply meant to be a working mom. It's a strange realization because I never thought that would be me. I was raised by a stay-at-home mom and always thought I would be one myself. But being away from Ava makes me appreciate even those shitty little nighttime moments, which would otherwise make me fall apart. In fact, I feel wildly insecure whenever I have to care for her for more than one full day by myself. I know I can -- and I have before -- but it's not my natural state.

I guess being a decent parent means recognizing your own limitations -- and what makes you the best version of yourself, for your child. For me, it's my job. Even on these rare 7pm nights. I just need to keep reminding myself that that's okay.