I was going to tell you that Telly and I both survived my first day at work, but we didn't. He peed in his crate.
Yes, I have a dog walker. Yes, I still feel like a bad mom. Yes, I still want to give the dog back, though now it's motivated by guilt instead of sheer hatred.
No, I will never give the dog up, because he is cute and he was Vor's birthday present.
God, it felt good to go to work and use my brain. I love it. I love it so much that I don't feel guilty even when my sister launched into a litany of why mothers that work while they have young children are bad mothers. I just don't care. Although it's extrapolating, I'm pretty sure I won't feel guilty when it's a real kid.
At least, not guilty in the sense that I can pin this anxious feel on something specific. I swear, the guilt that is lingering around me is the leftovers, bred into all cradle Catholics. Gotta love it.