A mother's guilt

Life's full of catch 22 situations when you're a mum. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. I really think midwives should issue a t-shirt to every new mum on the arrival of her first born.

The boy has started day care recently and while I was hesitant to let him out from under my wing, I am on the other hand delighted to do so for various reasons. However, the floodgates I was so anxiously expecting did open and I am not looking forward to a prolonged battle of teary morning drop offs.

He's the kind of boy who's happy to be where he is once he gets there, and once he's comfortable, he's all in and all go, but the reserved, shy side to him isn't quite as brave as he would like to be and his emotions overwhelm him - not surprisingly since I'm such a cool mummy to hang out with hehehe.

And so Monday's and Tuesday's are met with anticipation and apprehension from the both of us. I love the fact he's learning new things and that he has the opportunity to be independent of his mummy, but there's this horrible knot each morning as I leave him there with waterworks in full flight.

I could google the word guilt, however the Concise Oxford definition would no doubt differ from the actual one a mother would pen if it were she who wrote the dictionary.

I am trying to decide if this little challenge is more for him or for me, and I'm concluding that it is for us both, and I think we'll both be enriched and enlightened once we are over the initial shock of not being so joined at the hip.

Shhhhhh

What is that noise? Oh, yeah, it's nothing. Lil' Miss is playing happily on the floor and the Man has just taken the boy off to Grandmas for the afternoon. Lil' Miss and I are delighting in the not often found company of our own silence.

Ah, no, there it goes, I knew it wouldn't last long - "Mummy, why aren't you picking me up"?, she calls, in cheekily disguised baby language" And so I caved, and here I sit one handed typing or hunting and pecking as we used to call it in fifth form typing.

Once again it's been some time since I sat here and did this, but seeing as the house is relatively tidy, and there's only a short while til my chiropractic appointment, I decided, it was time to open the old lappy up for a bit of a rant.

I can't believe how fast the weeks are rolling around, it's already mid-year and the old casseroles are starting to nourish us regularly now. It's great this hearty winter food, definately better than the rabbit food we feed ourselves in the summer, don't get me wrong, I'm all for a good salad, but night after night trying to use up the same old ingredients, becomes a bit blah.

And isn't it nice to sit down at lunch time and tuck into a bowl of lovely home made soup and toast cut into soldiers, yum. Got to have the soldiers. I remember my Grandad used to break up and put his toast in the soup. Yuck, not my cup of tea, not into soggy bread, but what do you know, as if history repeats itself, the boy has decided he likes his soup crumb ridden also.

Ah winter, ah soup, ah silence. Well, at least I know there'll be a good chunk of two of these things at our house.

The boy's growing up

I knew the day would come, the day when I had to cut the ties and let the boy go off into the big wide world of Kindy or Pre school on his own. Friday, the reality hit when I was faced with a phone call from the local daycare where his name has been on the waiting list pretty much since lil' miss came on the scene (it's a popular place). They phoned to advise me that there was an opening, and the boy was at the top of the list for it - two mornings a week 8.30 - 12.30.

Yesterday we met the office lady and next week is his induction where he and I go along together and meet the teachers and have the grand tour.

We've been preparing him for months to the fact that he'll be going to daycare some time in the near future, and so after around five months of waiting, he's become intrigued at the whole concept which is great as he's been a very shy boy in the past, as short a time ago as three or four months I would never have dreamed it being an easy step for him to make, but now I'm feeling slightly easier about it as he's started to come out of his shell more and more in the short time he's been a big brother.

So how am I feeling? Excited for him, but sad for me all rolled into one. I guess it's a lesser version of the feeling a mum gets when her child goes off to school. I'm happy he'll be off doing something fun and learning with that sponge of his, and I'm also excited to be able to spend some alone time with lil' miss, and of course I'll have another time slot to fit more office work in (yay), but for three and a half years, this little man has been not far from my side, and I get the feeling I'm going to feel like a limb has been cut off for a wee while until I get used to it. Because as much as some days he can drive me up the wall, 99% of the time he's a cool little dude and I really love having him hanging around my feet.

Right, time to harden up. He'll be fine, and so will I, but I'm predicting that for me, the best thing about his new life to come as a big day care boy, will be picking him up and bringing him home!