Spring

It has been a terribly long time since I last posted, but that's because it's been very hard to adjust to the new routine of being a working mum. My new job is 18 hours a week, so I work all day Tuesday's and Fridays and Wednesday's till 12:30. It's been a real struggle to fit in time to work, play with H and get the household chores done. But after 9 weeks of change, I finally feel ready to type a quick blog post to update on the situation.

Well, that first day of work was the hardest thing I've ever done. Seriously. I would rather go through 24 hours of labour pains then relive that gut wrenching feeling of leaving my baby at the nursery whilst I slapped on a wonky smile on my face and entered a new workplace for the first time, being forced to fake smile and shake hands with strangers, all the time pining for a cuddle with my little man. It was like taking a bullet right in the heart. And at 2pm, after (another) nervous phone call to the nursery to see how he was doing, I got told that he was 'very distressed. Is there anyway you can leave work early?'... On my first day in a new job?! Luckily, my line manager is very understanding and let me leave at 4:30pm to collect him. I practically sprinted back to the car and sped along the road like a madwoman, desperate to reach him. I will never forget his awful, heartbroken sobs as I picked him up, prompting a flood of tears from me too. And we drove home feeling like crap and I've felt pretty crap since then, right up till about 2 weeks ago when little H finally started to show signs of settling. 

Of course, that first day at nursery prompted several weeks of terrible separation anxiety where H would work himself up into a right state every time I left the room, especially round friend's houses. And it also affected his bedtime routine where he wouldn't want me to leave the room, resulting in us adopting some of the 'cry it out' techniques that are so controversial (but worked!) Although I read a lot online about how to lessen his separation anxiety, the only real consensus was time. And 9 weeks later, here we are. I now have a happy, busy toddler who can be left at nursery for the day with only a few tears, which I have seen firsthand that dry the second I'm up the corridor. And this Tuesday when I collected him it was the first time he didn't cry, but toddled up to me happily for a cuddle. Which I embraced wholeheartedly. 

So yes, a rough few months and more than a few tears shed on my part, mourning my carefree days as a stay at home mummy and dealing with the fall out of this difficult transition. The silver lining is how H's relationship with his two nannie's has blossomed, as they care for him the rest of the time I'm at work. I want him to have the kind of relationship with his grandparents as I did with mine, despite how fractured and unconventional our families are. Now H is walking around and playing like a proper little boy, it makes me appreciate all the more how important our wider family are in helping care for our little man and give us the occasional break! Because as much as we love and treasure him, these days we are literally running round after him, chasing him, playing with him, nurturing and nourishing him and it can be very exhausting! Our days are filled with laughter, astonishment, joy and wonder as we re-learn the world through our son's eyes. And though our time together is shortened now I'm working, it just makes the time we are together even more special. 

Tomorrow

We are snuggled up watching Cbeebies on TV. You are chewing on a plastic 'brush baby' toothbrush and gently tapping your feet against my legs as you sit happily in my lap. Your hair smells clean as you nestle into my arms.  

Tomorrow I start my new job. I am excited, certainly I was excited. Now big fat tears roll down my cheeks at the thought of leaving you tomorrow. We had a trial morning at your nursery this morning and you were fine. I left you for 25 minutes or so and when I came to see how you were getting on without me, you were dancing to music in the room with a big grin on your face. 

I know you'll be fine. But I'm not fine. Because our special time together where it's just you and me is coming to an end. The day I have been dreading for the last 15 months since I left my old job has finally arrived and I can literally feel my heart breaking. It hurts so, so much I feel like I can't breathe. But I know this something we have to do. I keep telling myself that you will be fine, that I will be fine and that it will ALL BE FINE because I cannot drop you off tomorrow and slap a smile on my face and walk into an unfamiliar room and meet new people if I imagine your little face searching for me, missing me even a tenth as much as I'll miss you. 

I don't want to write much more because I'm missing precious moments with you. It helps that you've just started walking a little, it's a show of physical strength and maturity which means I don't feel like I'm leaving my tiny, helpless baby with strangers. 

I want you to go forth in life, have adventures and make new friends. I want you to learn and grow and I accept that there will be other people in life that will have a hand in raising you. And for me, I'm excited for a new challenge. But right now, as your little warm body fits perfectly in my lap, I want this moment to stretch on forever. For it just to be you and me, my darling little boy always. 

You just looked up at my red- rimmed eyes (mama's rainy face) and offered me your dummy, your way of giving me comfort. Thank you, little button. 

Christmas is Around the Corner

I am laying next to Harrison in our bed, he is wrapped up in my arms napping. He smells like a combination of milk and strawberry juice. He is snoring softly. Every now and then he contorts as he coughs violently, occasionally retching as he struggles with his chest infection. My poor boy. He had sniffles last week that ended up mutating into a horrible chesty cough and cold after he had his one year jabs on Thursday. J and I battled all weekend to bring his temperature down to healthy levels and even now none of us have had much sleep. 

This time of year brings all manner of bugs to blight the festive season. As you dust off your Christmas tree and hang up your decorations you almost know for certain that somebody in the family is going to get a rotten cold in time for Christmas, and if they have one now, 'at least it's out of the way in time for Christmas'. I sincerely hope that all of us enjoy a snot-free Christmas this year. Especially as it's the first one that Harrison can begin to appreciate in terms of that we're doing something different from everyday life and that's exciting. There is a brightly lit tree in the dining room. A holly bough over the fireplace, Christmas cards strewn along the shelves. Harrison desperately wants to escape the confines of the living room and explore the tree - specifically to pull the baubles off and see if they bounce or smash. Hence why we have resigned the tree to our dining area, which we can safely cordone off.

And speaking of resigning, I have handed in my notice at work. There are big changes afoot here as in January I'll be starting a new job at the University of Essex. It's part time, more money and there are actual perks like childcare vouchers, a pension scheme etc. and the big bonus is there's a lovely nursery onsite where my little button will get to play whilst I'm working. 

I am really excited for this new challenge and genuinely ready and willing for the chance to meet new people and start this new chapter of my life as a working mum. But there is a part of me that is desperately sad that my time as a stay at home mummy has come to an end. 

There are no words for how much this time with Harrison has meant to me. Everyday (even the days when he's been poorly or stroppy) have been the best of my life. I feel so sad that our special time together is coming to an end. I think this is exacerbated by the fact I stopped breastfeeding Harrison a week after his first birthday. That was traumatic to say the least, though definitely the right time for us to stop. 

I will admit that I'm struggling to accept that there will be other people that will have a hand in raising Harrison and shaping the man he will become. That frightens me, because in my mind only J and I are fit to raise our son and there is a lot of distrust around how our family members, friends and staff will meet our high expectations. But, in the immortal words of Frozen, I have to 'let it go'. Harrison loved looking around the nursery the other day and just wanted to wriggle away from me and J and play with the new toys. It was a heartbreaking moment, but I am ultimately proud that our boy is strong enough to be independent from us. 

So this Christmas I am going to make the most of being a stay at home mum whilst I can. Who cares that I'm snuggled up next to my sleeping baby at 10:30 on a Tuesday morning? The chores can wait, it's a never ending task anyway. Right now, having the time to hold my little, sleeping, snotty son in my arms is all I could ever want for Christmas.