The Breeders: The Best and Worst Thing about Being a Working Mom

I get a weekly email that tells me what developmental milestones I should be witnessing in the kid.

They either have a nanny cam in our house or the kid is right on track for his development, because each week I forward them to my husband with the preface, "Look, honey, he did that thing last week!" (Obviously, this leads me to believe he is a genius who is a week ahead of where he should be developmentally).

A couple of weeks ago the email said we could expect something called "object permanence," the understanding that a thing continues to exist even when he can no longer see it.

It has made our lives easier because now when he drops his binky he doesn't assume that it has been sucked into the abyss and he will never again know the pure joy of sucking on silicone. Instead, he rolls over, finds it, and pops it back in his mouth...

The only downside to this development is he is beginning to understand it about animate objects, too. Objects like me. This makes for a very fun game of peek-a-boo, but it also means that coming home from work requires some very delicate maneuvering.

You see, when babies figure out object permanence, they also have a tendency to continue to want the thing they can no longer see, and that is where we get (as my email told me last week) separation anxiety.

Leaving for work in the morning isn't too bad (yet). Sometimes I leave when the kid is still asleep, and if he is awake he is still just as happy to hang out with dad as he is with me.

However, when I come home the minute he sees me he is reminded of my existence. This means that everyday I come home to the biggest three-toothed grin, sparkling eyes and happily kicking feet you have ever seen. It is by far the best part of my day. I have never experienced anything quite like it and it is amazing.

However, if the kid sees me come in the door before I have taken off my coat, washed my hands, or (godforsake) gone to the bathroom, his world has come to an end. He now knows I am home and I am not kissing and holding him. No amount of peek-a-boo from the coat closet or the kitchen sink will do the trick.

It is heartbreaking, but I'm not about to hug him with my hands covered in the grime of public transit during cold and flu season, and a mom with a UTI is no use to anyone.

Even having dad hold him while they watch me use the bathroom (What? He was present and accounted for during the birth, I have no secrets anymore.) is not acceptable. I MUST be holding and kissing him, even if I must do so on the toilet.

But, the emails warned me of that, too. Evidently when you become a mom one of the things they don't tell you to expect is that you will never again pee alone. We might as well start now.

Besides, I'd do just about anything to make that welcome last a little longer.