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Back to work...and feeling grateful

From Meredith Reis, TODAY producer Running a perpetual 50-yard dash. In heels. With a breast pump strapped to my back. That's a little of what life feels like returning to work just three months after my third child ...a beautiful little girl... was born. It didn't used to feel this crazy. Maybe that's because my last maternity leave, after my twin boys were born, was twice as long. Now th

From Meredith Reis, TODAY producer Running a perpetual 50-yard dash. In heels. With a breast pump strapped to my back. That's a little of what life feels like returning to work just three months after my third child ...a beautiful little girl... was born. It didn't used to feel this crazy. Maybe that's because my last maternity leave, after my twin boys were born, was twice as long. Now that the boys are older (they started preschool this year) and she's younger (her routine: Eat. Sleep. Poop. Smile. Repeat)...well, it just feels like there's a lot more going on. And yes, the conflicts and mixed emotions women in my position feel are endless and well documented. For example: * I just fed her, and I've been trying to burp her - but no luck! And I have to leave for work this second! * Or, it's Thursday morning and I find a fund-raising gift catalog that the school sent home in my kid's backpack (you know, the kind where you're supposed to hit up all of your colleagues to buy candles and magazine subscriptions?). And it's due back on Monday! I could go on, but I won't. Or at least I'll give it my best effort not to. And here's the reason why: I'm grateful. I'm grateful for healthy children who smile, laugh...and find some way to drive me nuts every single day. I'm grateful for a husband who understands my sometimes crazy job (he works here, too), loves our kids and insists on cleaning up the dishes every night. I'm grateful for a job where I love what I do... and accommodations are made so that I can actually use the aforementioned breast pump (which, as you may know, is not always the neatest or most graceful endeavor.) And I'm grateful to the wonderful woman who helps us care for our children, making all of this possible. So no complaining. Well, I do have one complaint. Those heels. I think I'm in denial over the fact that my feet got bigger during my pregnancy, because all of my nice looking, pre-pregnancy shoes HURT. (Maybe hospitals could give all of their maternity patients gift cards to Nordstrom's shoe department? Now there's a health care initiative I think everyone could get behind!) So, aside from the shoes, I'm happy. Busy, and with more than my share of blisters, but happy. And I wouldn't have it any other way.