This is what 12 weeks looks like.

Well, let’s be honest, it mostly looks like this…oral fixation and all.

Such a milestone for the little man and me: not only is today his 12 week birthday, but today is the last day of my maternity leave.

Instead of sitting at home waiting for the crying to start, we’ve kept ourselves busy. Lunch at Wild Eggs with Johanna, Shareen and Val. Then, there was the afternoon Starbucks date with Mom, Laura and Holly — Jack still doesn’t enjoy coffee, here’s hoping he appreciates the sugar-loaded iced tea lemonade I had instead.

And since today is the last day of maternity leave, I thought it would be a great time to get Jack into a *new* routine, Dr. Sears style, — you know, so Mom can perfect it when I’m not around. Thanks Mom! So, today we have practiced napping in our crib. And, with the aid of strategically placed rolled up blankets, the swaddle and the pacifier, day 1 is in the books as a success. And tonight is the perfect night to start a bedtime routine.

Maternity leave, in all your re-run glory, you have been good to me. Sure, I have not taken nearly enough pictures of me with my little man, nor have I taken as many morning strolls as I would have liked (it’s been too hot, right?!?), nor can I fit into my pre-maternity dress pants. But, I have watched the entire 30 Rock catalog on Netflix, watched more documentaries on kids in New York City (ballroom dancing, competing for culinary scholarships to name a couple), played lots of Euchre on the iPhone and visited Target more than my credit card wants to admit. I have also successfully completed the following house projects: moved my baking pans and cutting boards to another cupboard, painted 1 coat of the firebox (Bill finished it), and…and…and…well, that seems to be about it. That is if you discount the mounds of laundry, the dinners cooked, the number of times I’ve moved the bouncy seat and activity mat to their “proper spots” (so I can pretend that a baby hasn’t taken over the house) and the 5,000 thank-you notes I’ve sent out. Oh, and being the milk lady.

Ah, 12 weeks, you are infinitely shorter than 3 months.

I’m going to try to keep an open mind and not go running back home as soon as I cross the threshold at P5 tomorrow, i.e. approximately 8:31 am.

Though, I have thought about calling in sick.