A Work In Progress

I think I forgot to brush my teeth this morning. That’s just how my days go lately. The usual stuff of life –- grooming, eating, sleeping, socializing –- often slips through the cracks.

I also didn’t wash my hair today. I’ve always been the kind of person who washes her hair every single day (almost), but this is the new me. Now I am a fulltime working mom and some days, probably every day, something has to give.

I’d like to be the kind of woman who has perfectly straightened hair with no ugly, rouge, stray grays sticking out. I’d like to be a person who’s in good shape and wears clean, tailored clothes. I’m not that person. I am a working mom of twins.

For months I worried about going back to work. The day finally arrived this week. Many friends – all women – sent me emails, texts, facebook messages wishing me well. They all know that first day is impossible. It’s like man walking on the moon kind of impossible -– something that seems insane, wild, unreasonable, foolish even, until it actually happens. And then it's just reality.

In the morning on that first day of work, I rushed from the house with tears streaming down my face, leaving August and Finley with the nanny on the play mat in the kitchen nook, which is now a playroom. They were fine. I was the one who was a mess.

It’s a small miracle I was not in a major car accident on the way home I drove so frantically, cursing L.A., idiot drivers, horrific traffic, a society where we must leave our children with strangers all day. I was a mad, mad woman. The minute I walked through the door I dramatically threw myself at my sons as if I’d just gotten home from a four-month tour in Afghanistan. Happily, the boys were wildly excited to see me, too. They each smiled from ear to ear, shrieked with joy, laughed and hugged me as much as any 6-month old baby can hug, and covered me in wet, gummy drool. Bliss.

That first day I thought I would never make it another day. But I got up at 5:45 a.m. the next morning and pushed ahead. It’s only been three days, but I have made it this far.

I’ve even developed a bit of a morning routine: pump, shower, dress, make bottles, greet babies who have just woken up, feed babies, change diapers, make second breakfast of cereal and pureed banana, set up high chairs, feed babies again, shove something edible into my mouth, greet nanny and go to work. You see, there is no ‘brush teeth’ in my routine! What can I say? It’s a work in progress. My whole life is a work in progress.