Daddy's Got to Earn a Living

It crept up on us slowly, it had to happen, and eventually it did: Jose had to go back to the lab. He took with him:
The man who makes and feeds me my breakfast while I'm feeding Tara in bed;
The man who drags baby equipment and mummy-support-cushions up and down the stairs when required;
The man who changes nappies ever so lovingly (and only rarely hisses shhhhhh at his daughter at full volume, assuming she stops whingeing because she is fascinated by the sound);
The man who knows how to soothe his little girl by talking to her non-stop and rocking her for as long as she wants (also the man who commands the magical finger as demonstrated in the last video clip);
The man who makes mummy's lunch; and
The man who takes Tara off mummy and makes her laugh when she looks like she needs a break.
In short, he's taken with him the whole support team that did everything but feeding la senorita Pumpunita, and consequently I'd been dreading the day. I'm still getting a grace period until Wednesday lunch time when aunty Claudia ends her (extended, thank you!) baby visit, but from tomorrow on we'll be on our own for most of the day. Life will resume a semblance of normalcy (someone tell my nipples please?) ihopeihopeihope.

So, would you think that Jose found us home and eagerly awaiting his return on that first day of separation? Nope. We'd meant to be there in the same measure that we'd meant to commence sling and pram training at around lunch time. I'm not very experienced at timing Tara yet, though. The first time at around noon we made it (semi-dressed) into the pram before we had to abort 'operation walk' due to high pitched screaming for food. The second time we made a dash for it we got through the gate and only aborted three minutes later due to the same miserable shouting. The third time we looked at her and figured we had a chance it was 5pm. This time Tara was full and tired enough to cooperate and we made it all the way into the city center and to work to show her off at the office. I was wearing jeans and trainers (good!) and higher up a bra, milk pads and a jacket on top (not good but a significant improvement). By the time we got there everyone had left but my boss Janet and three colleagues working late. And of course they complained that we were bringing the baby in asleep! Tara duly woke up, remained cuddleable for a few minutes, then did a poo, then another one, next commenced shouting for suckables as loudly as she could, then turned redder than I've ever seem her before, and finally did convince her mother to take her home for a feed.
I didn't think I'd make it across the street before I'd give in to the urge to pick her up, but (yes, Janet) the second we hit the road she fell silently asleep. My angelic girl! (Oh. Daddy's angelic girl as well of course!) Look at her, you'd never think she was capable of making such a racket!