Post Preggo Starts Over

I don't know any idiot who would give up a well-paid job in this economy. Except me. Yup. I resigned my position, in the only field I ever wanted—a professional and PAID writer. The paid part is very important because I know a lot of people who call themselves writers, but don't get paid to do it professionally. And there I was, writing on well-known client accounts, a job some college punk would love to have, and I quit. I don't think it really hit me at first. I'm still post-partum from my third baby—yet another girl—and was still dealing with the sleep deprivation. So I decided to give the work commute a trial run to see how it would fit into all our lives.
That morning was an early start, but manageable thanks to help from the teenager. I got up at 5 a.m. Woke the teen. Showered. Dressed. Ate. Made lunches. Woke the toddler and the newborn. Changed clothes. Changed diapers. Gathered diaper bags. Grabbed breast pump. Then the teenager grabbed the toddler, I grabbed the newborn, and we all loaded the car. All before 7 a.m.
I was still breathing, so that was a good sign. There was still work to do: Go South to bring the teen to school, go North to bring the newborn to Grandma's, the even farther north to bring the toddler to daycare. Go South to bring me to work—a typically hour and a half drive on a good day in Fairfield County. And I actually made it on time. And it was great to see everyone after a couple of months being sequestered at home, babe at boob, me on couch.
I got caught up on emails, people's lives, work assignments, and before I knew it, it was time to go. I left at 4 p.m., got home at 7 p.m., thought about it all weekend, and quit on Monday.

And my first week went something like this:
Monday—Wow, I am staying home for the first time in my life. This is great! My kids really need me!
Tuesday—I got to sleep past 6 a.m.! OMG. I am changing lots of diapers. What happens to all the dirty diapers in the world?
Wednesday—There's a lot of mindless TV on. If only the whining weren't so loud. I think I'll reach out to some friends. I need a play group.
Thursday—This house has incredible possibilities! It would look great with built-ins and a paint job. And I really need to work on that kitchen. I think I'll put the kids down for a nap and watch Nate today.
Friday—Does anyone have any freelance? If I had freelance, I could afford daycare.

I heard it takes about a year to get used to being home after living the cut-throat corporate life. So I decided to chronicle it and see if I can do it. Moms who made the decision told me they never regretted spending more time with their kids. And I can't say I will either. But I know there will be days...and I am hoping I'll get through them.