Two weeks from today, I will be back at work.
I have no business complaining. I got way more than the 12 weeks traditionally allowed, and I have a stay-home spouse. We've been living like lottery winners since August (well, lottery winners without a huge wad of cash).
I went back to the office for a couple of days in early December to attend meetings. I found that being at work is much less awful than imagining being at work. Still, I'm dreading it.
In fact, what the hell am I doing talking to you people? I've got a baby to cuddle.
Edited to add: I think all the cuddling pissed the baby off. He seems to be ready for me to go back to work and quit bugging him.