I'm carrying around a large parcel of guilt and it's not just a result of the Catholic education, though I'm sure that features.
I was set to go back to work on Friday. Full time. Gilby is not quite sixth months, but given term times, exam classes, financial considerations and all the rest of it, this seemed like the moment.
He was booked in for 'familiarisation' sessions at the local nursery. He will be going three days a week. His sister is already there and she will be attending on the same days. So far so good. On the other days I have an ex-student coming over from Australia to look after them, and Daddy will have one of those mornings off too, to take them both to their swimming lessons. And the grandparents are all very supportive. Great.
But the snow interfered with Gilby having his practice gos at nursery as it was closed last week. So now I am supposed to return to work without even being sure that he is settled. My Australian friend has problems with her visa and has not yet booked flights. And to make things worse, when we visited this morning, I discovered that he is the youngest baby at the nursery by three months.
What on earth does that say?
So all in all, for what would be a difficult time anyway, my guilt and anxiety are growing by the second. It's not feeling very happy-new-yearish any more!