The Honest Guide to Your first week back at work
2 CommentsMonday, 24 September 2018 | Admin
The Honest Guide To...Your First Week Back At Work.
So as last weeks blog discussed going back to work after having 8 months of maternity leave, it felt fitting that this week would cover how My First Week Back actually went.
It felt like the first day of school on the Monday - I had a new ‘work bag’ instead of my lovely Pacapod changing bag. It was strange not having to leave the house with half its contents. You can’t help but think you’ve forgotten something. Do I need a spare dummy? Nappies? No.
The drive into work was as expected, quiet, this meant though I had time to think - which is never good. I had a little whimper when ABBA’s ‘Slipping Through My Fingers’ came on the radio. Where was time going? Where’s my baby gone? I told you - I just shouldn’t think!
My ID pass worked which was a good start - as was the coffee from the Cafeteria.
Lots of pleasantries were exchanged and I logged onto my (temporary) computer. (I don’t yet have a permanent desk) 2,732 emails received. Approximately 2,732 were deleted.
Have to say, I spent some time reviewing the cafeteria menu for the forthcoming week along with the annual leave spreadsheet. Priorities, you know.
Everything was going swimmingly, until Tuesday night.
Max was poorly, he vomited and then collapsed unconscious. If you’ve been reading my blogs for a while, you’ll know Max tends to fit when he’s poorly, luckily this time, I knew there was no temperature so a fit was unlikely but to pass out was ‘new’, so I called 999.
It took them 3 minutes 51 seconds to answer the call. It felt like a lifetime and in that time, Max came to and vomited again.
Lily was fast asleep upstairs but I called a friend to come round ASAP, in true friend style, she did. She also brought croissants and donuts the following day. I tell you; blessed.
The ambulance arrived and checked Max over, by now, he’d come round and had abit of colour back in his cheeks. We didn’t need to go to hospital which was a relief and hubby came home from work as soon as he could.
During the night both Lily and Max were sick. Lily, however was blissfully unaware and just slept in her bolognese mess until we came to check on her. All beddings changed and it was back off to bed.
Most parents will know that a vomiting child means 48hours off work. I’ve just had 8 months off - what’s another 48hours!?
Finally back to work on Friday morning. Couldn’t help walking in to work singing, ‘Guess Who’s Back..Back again..’ I’m just too funny for my own good.
Back to it though, logged on, meeting new colleagues.
About 11am - Briefly check my phone - 3 missed calls & a voicemail from School.
“Hi Mrs Fouassier, nothing to worry about (why do they say this? You get a call from school, you’re going to worry!) but Max isn’t very well, he’s been crying and running to the toilet all morning”
Naturally, you drop everything and make your way to School. In all fairness, I don’t think he was particularly ‘poorly’ on this day, I think he was just starving. He’d emptied his guts over the last couple of days and was now on the mend - he just needed some sugar.
In the back of my mind I was thinking, I don’t want to be one of those mums, those mums who are always being called out of work to pick up their poorly child. What will work think? I’m going to get in trouble. Oh god.
I’m a mummy. My children will ALWAYS come first. That’s just a given. I will ALWAYS come running when my children need me.
This week has just proven that nothing ever goes as planned.
Parenting never goes as planned.
And that’s ok because in the words of 90’s Pop group B*Witched, ‘C’est la vie!’