The first manic Monday

Tomorrow is most certainly not "just another," though it will certainly be a manic Monday.

For the last three months, I have really passed the time without much recognition of the difference between weekdays and weekends. When my husband went back to work, I started to notice because he was gone for the five 24-hour periods called weekdays, but I still did not really care whether it was a Tuesday or a Friday. Tonight, however, I am acutely aware that it is Sunday and that tomorrow is a Monday - the beginning of the workweek. The reason? I start back to work tomorrow morning, joining the legions of working mommas worldwide.

I made a decision to switch jobs when I was six months pregnant so I could be part of a more family-friendly working environment. I now realize that, well, "family-friendly" next to "work environment" is really an oxymoron. I made the job switch because I feared being half a mom and half an employee, with those two halves adding up to much less than a whole me. I have no doubts that mom-me will be a good employee; I am scared out of my mind that employee-me will be a totally crappy mom.

How do I leave my tiny son with someone else all day? How can I entrust any other person with his care? What if they don't hold him right? Don't pay attention to his cries? Don't encourage his growth and development the way I would? Stop. Hey Momma - newsflash - they won't. Nobody else on this planet will do things the way I would all the time, but I have to remember my mantra. It will get my through.

"I don't have to be a perfect mom. I just have to be good enough." Here's to hoping my son grows to appreciate that I pursued a career of which he and I can be proud. Here's to hoping he has a greater respect for strong women because of my job. Here's to ... a working momma ... a momma who works it.