Heartbreak in the extreme – we delivered The Boy to day care for the first time today. Six months at home and it was time for us all to grow up and break the bond. It wasn’t easy, and made harder by the child on the floor who was not being the centre of anyone’s attention and making attempts to do so.
The Boy took to the situation pretty well – the girl who took him had a good energy about her and he seemed to like her. Unfortunately there’s no way to put him down unless it’s in a bouncer because he’s not sitting up yet, so he’d probably be in the same situation as that other kid later today. L
And my way of dealing with the situation was to make myself emotionally absent. The radio had a phone-in competition to win some magazine or something, which I got straight into. But then there was a queue, and then the centre opened. I had to hang up because I was ticking her off – she was not enjoying the situation and my not “being there” wasn’t making it easier.
I did the same thing during the birth process. Whilst we had prepared ourselves for a lengthy and loud day, the situation came down to her needing an epidural and just sitting there waiting for the process to look after itself for the whole day. And I spent the time blogging* about it. And when the moment came, I had to tell one of her friends (who was there with me on the other end of the SMS) to let the news out.
But C was in the other room telling her father not to tell anyone … wasn’t I a popular lad?! When I came back into the birthing suite, instead of bathing in the after-glow, I was having several new ones reamed for me. It may be something I need to take up with the shrink I am seeing (for the cancer). .. .
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