The feelings have returned.
Baby fever. Cooing, awe-ing and feeling a need to hold every baby I see. The newness. The potential. The bundle of messy, sleep depriving, love. Biology and this crazy human nature of wanting to continue the brood.
Before the school closed for the holidays, a trio of staff members came up to our corridor to do some works. When I opened our door I squealed as my eyes were immediately drawn to the few month old child one of them held (his own, do not worry). Thankfully he let me hold the little booger. So tiny. Still new to the world. Oh who will that little person be?
Peaches was not cool with it. But this is not about her, and Mama needed her baby fix.
I feel like everyone is suddenly getting pregnant, having more babies, trying for children and my envy of that is well hidden.This is all normal lady problems, phases, or passing fancies. Hormones, am I right?!
“I feel it in my fingers. I feel it in my toes. Babies are all around me, and so the feeling grows…”
Until last night when the shit felt very real.
We are sitting on the couch Christmas night, snuggled together watching the “Dr. Who” special feeling the warm glow of ( I AM SITTING AND WATCHING DOCTOR WHO WITH SOMEONE I MADE) being a family. Yet in this almost perfect moment I simultaneously felt a loss.
The missing of some future unknown as yet being.
When are they? Who are they?
I don’t know what the future holds. So I am just thinking about them for now.
Peaches is entering nursery, or daycare if you will, very soon. Before officially starting nursery there are “settling in”, or taster, sessions. My partner took her to the first session - two hours long, he answered some developmental questions and watched her play (and almost completely ignored him). She took to it quickly and did not want to leave “school”.
I did not really know what all that or this meant. As everything is theoretical until put into practice first hand.
30 minutes ago I experienced it first hand. Woke her up from a nap telling her it was time for school, she squealed with delight and quickly got dressed. (What the what?! How is it suddenly not a fight to dress her?) We walked over, signed in, went into her designated classrooms and boom - off she went. I got an occasional glance, but not one with any kind of recognition. Suddenly I am Jo Nobody in her little world.
The nursery team let me know I could leave whenever I felt comfortable, and I could have left right then. But no. Instead I awkwardly stood around, looked at things on the wall, said hello to the children staring at me. If they could communicate better, I am pretty sure they would have said - “take a hint weirdo”.
No goodbye, I just slipped out of the room, signed out of the building and walked. Alone. Back into the school. (Stopping to give my husband a “WTF Time to Myself Boogie”.
Time to myself…. Especially unplanned time to myself.
What do I, how do I, should I….
I am lost.
And I guess that is what this, after two solid years of full time stay at home mum-dom, is going to be all about for me. She gets to socialise, grow, experience from outside my peripheal vision… and I get to.. relocate me. Check back in with that stranger who after a 32 year relationship took a backseat.
How do I even start? Sorry I ditched you, bae, you know I love you.
***Editor’s note : Children just love to prove you wrong, two days after I wrote this up Peaches broke out with impetigo.... so that was fun. Since she has recovered and returned to nursery she is having separation issues. Which is less fun than seeing her independently walk into the classroom of her peers.
I can feel myself slowly slipping away into the obscurity of an ageing woman. Thinking less about what I could accomplish and more about my daughter's (and any other offspring's) future.
Dressing to hide myself. Make myself less noticeable. Wearing more black to look smaller. Yet picking out the brightest, jolliest and flashiest apparel that we can afford for the child.
Keeping my opinion to myself instead of barfing out the first notion that comes to mind. Picking and choosing how or who I react to. Don't want to seem too pushy, outspoken or bossy, Thor forbid. And still egging my daughter to use her words, her voice and let us know her thoughts.
Is this what happens?
Is it society's fault or bullshit or both?
I see the marketing changing from '' YOU ARE THE FUTURE '' and '' WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO NEXT '' to '' ARE YOU REALLY THINKING ABOUT YOUR CHILD'S FUTURE '' and '' WHAT WILL YOU LEAVE BEHIND ''.
Ouch bots. Ouch.
Well I refuse to have a mid-life crisis. It is not a crisis, it is going to be a revolt. A midlife revolt. Take the Consumerism Spies. I am not yet mid-thirties, I am not going to be ignored as I am the now. We are all the now.
Happy Rant-urday muchachas.
Not an instructional blog but the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth - so help me Mom.