Aidan started Daycare or “School” as we call it. It’s not the end of the world but I feel nervous due to all the irrational fears swelling around in the pit of my stomach. I wanted him home, to be cared for in his safe place, I place where I wouldn’t have to worry but having a nanny didn’t work out, mostly because it’s extremely expensive so now we’re trying Daycare. He only goes one day a week, giving me a day to write or run errands and giving him a place to make new friends, develop his independence further and get out of the house. It will be good for him. It will be good for me. Well, that’s what I keep telling myself.
As soon as we pulled into the carpark he started squealing “school schooooooool” and rushed into his room, waved hello to the carers and started playing trucks with a little girl. I stood, trembling, in the middle of the room explaining to the room leader how he doesn’t have any known allergies, he needs his “snuggie” for nap time and that he’s just an easy going kid who is all kinds of awesome. What I really wanted to say was “You break him and you die” but I kept it casual, I smiled, kissed Aidan goodbye and left the room but even as I walked away I still felt extremely tethered to him.
I made it half way home before I found the lump in my throat was too much and I started to sob, just little ones but all the same I cried. I was willingly giving our moments to someone else. Moments we could have been sharing together were now theirs, that eats me up more than anything. I keep telling myself it’s just one day, stop being so bloody dramatic but it doesn’t make me feel any better. It was always the plan to put him in after he turned two, it didn’t come as a surprise and everyones completely supportive and in Aidan’s case, excited! So I’ll just try and get some work done and soon enough, time will fly and I’ll go in and see his face light up and the words “Mumma” will fill my heart and his warm little body will fill my arms.