I've been brooding this week. A lot.
Kayla was very excited to see me when she got home from the Manheim Farm Show Tuesday night. She had news. Not only did she actually smile for school picture day, she went potty for the first time at school that day. Awesomesauce, right?
My initial reaction was joy. I hugged and kissed and told her how proud I am of her. And as I was squeezing her for the 37th time, it hit me like a ton of bricks.
I missed it.
My kid used the potty for the first time, and I wasn't there. Someone else got to tell her what a great job she did before I could. I wasn't even there to find out when she got picked up from school. Grandma knew before I did.
Working mom's guilt is such a bitch. And a fickle one at that. In my head I know that I'm just not cut out to be a SAHM. I'm ready to go back to work and have interactions with grown ups again after just a week at home with her. But in my heart of hearts, I wish that I could be one.
I shouldn't be too sad. She's 27 months old today, has been in daycare for 25 of those months and this is the first milestone I've missed. I was with her when she crawled for the first time. I was right behind her when she took her first solo steps. I discovered her first tooth. I was there when she said her first word.
So why does this bother me so much? There's no shortage of firsts to come - but now I have to wonder how many more of those will work keep me from witnessing? Seems kind of unfair. But then again, life isn't fair, is it?