So, back to work on Tuesday for me, and tonight I am exhausted, ill and emotional.

The Christmas break was amazing. Nearly three weeks off work (because of the days that I work), filled with happiness, merriment and family time. Hubby took two days off work over that time and we ended up with a five-day Christmas weekend and a four-day New Year’s weekend. It was lovely. I thoroughly enjoyed (nearly) every second of it.

Which then makes going back to work even harder.

Tonight, I have felt terrible. Three full days of intensive work with a hacking, tickly and dry cough have meant that tonight I did not have the energy to do a thing. Hubby cooked tea, fed The Boy and put him to bed. I sat downstairs and tried not to cry.

It didn’t work, I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. There was snot, it wasn’t attractive (how come Sandra Bullock never has a leaky nose when she cries?).

And then came the guilt. You know what I’m talking about. The following goes through my mind: I hate leaving him; I did not have a child to not be there for him; I wish to God I was there for him 24/7 but the mortgage needs paying, clothes need buying, food needs to be provided, don’t forget the debts!; I am lucky that my mum has him (he gets to spend time with nana & she has an input in his life); I wish it was me that was there everyday; (here we go, the biggy) I am a bad mum.

Only I’m not and I know I’m not.

But God it physically hurts to leave him every single day.

I wish I was lucky enough to be a stay at home mum.

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