The first step is admitting you have a problem...and then bitching about it

I have come to the conclusion that I'm not perfect.

*crowd gasps*

I cannot do it all.

I've spent the last 9 months (after a mere 3 weeks maternity leave) playing the part of full time mom and working full time (=40 hours) from home being a data analyst. What job requires full attention and NOT screaming/crying/spitting up/crawling/getting into everything baby? Data analyst.

Commence series of panic attacks.

I found a babysitter a few months back, and only wanted to partially relinquish my super mom do-it-all duties and have her gone a couple days a week. Well, after 2 months, she's only been to the sitter a handful of times.

Panic panic panic panic.

This week was our first week at daycare. She's only gone in the mornings for 3 days a week.

Breathing.

She's cheery when we get in the car to go.

Heart rate dropping.

She plays and learns to SHARE while I am accomplishing work tasks.

Except when I'm blogging about it... bloody hell.

In all, I'm happier because she's being cared for instead of partially ignored. I tried my best to do it all - but everything was coming out half-baked. I was not doing well at work. The house was constantly trashed. And I felt guilty for having a computer screen between my daughter and I all the time.

Happily opening a new chapter - and I'm not going to feel guilty about having someone else watch my kid.

I'm just not gonna.