First week back in the land og grown-upness and it is almost like I was never away. So far I like it and feel rather smug of how I have managaged both to get settled in work and be a mummy for Little H.

Let's sum up the week:

Monday: Slight delay on the train, as expected. Got to work, reclaimed my desk and explored my cup-board. Sadly I found no package of bisquits or other forgotten treasures.
I checked on Little H by texting pappa Kas a couple of times during the day, but made no phone calls and did not once hide in the loo to cry. Number of times I showed off pictures of little H: countless.

When I arrived at home, I was met by a cheery, but not ecstatic-to-be-reunited-with-mummy Little H and a rather smug pappa Kas. The first day had been rather painless, no tantrums, no accidents and very little spit-up. Beginners luck.
I was suspecting Little H to be on her best behavour to impress, just as she's doing when visiting her grandparents.

Tuesday: I was right. When I arrived back home Pappa Kas told me that I had no idea of how difficult Little H could be. After 8 months at home with her, I think that I have an inkling, but I could be mistaken. She had delivered three smelly packages, refused to eat her porridge and not wanted to play alone on the floor for so much as a second. Her supposed to be long morning nap lasted only 20 minutes. Poor Pappa Kas, I knew exactly how he felt. This is life with Little H, unpredictable, smelly, fun, challenging and fulfilling all in one, you have to take it or leave it, and leaving is not an option.

And so the week passed. By the end of it, when we packed our bags and headed toward the mountains for Little H's first cabin trip, both myself and Pappa Kas started getting more comfortable in our roles. Him settling into his dream job as a househusband and me slowly but surely re-entering the world of nail-polished ladies and morning commutes.