Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

I'm sure you're wondering why I haven't written about Harrison's first day of daycare. 

Confession time:  he didn't start. 

Diary, I couldn't do it.  I had the best intentions; honestly, I did. 

But on the Thursday prior to the big day, Dee Dee, H, and I went over to pick up the necessary paperwork and introduce him to the teachers.  The sweet lady scooped him up and was walking him around the room when...

.... I had a panic attack. 

I saw spots.  Hyperventilated.  Splotched.  Sobbed. 

And it was an ugly cry, Diary.  UGLY.  Lots of snot involved. 

And if you know me, Diary - you know I don't get upset like that.  Especially in public.  With people watching.

Diary, I turned in my 2 weeks notice at work later that afternoon.  It was both the hardest and easiest decision I've ever made. 

Alas, Diary, don't give up on me.  I won't be sitting on the couch eating bon-bons and watching soap operas, I promise. 

Things work out for the better, Diary.  Later that day a company offered me a position that will let me work from home, so I jumped on it like my former-pregnant-self-on-a-cupcake-with-chocolate-icing. 

Did I mention that it's a local parenting magazine?  Doesn't God have a delightful sense of humor? 

Thanks for listening, Diary.  You're the best. 

XOXO,
Your favorite neurotic new mommy