Wednesday, 29 April 2009

Fickle Me This ..

The baby is getting looked after by strangers today. Frankly, I'm disgusted .... at myself.

Words can't convey the relief and utter freedom I feel about him starting daycare this week. My four-celled embryo. My much, much longed-for baby ... my tough lil man guyo who has had such a big, big year.

Here I sit, in a cafe, looking at Peaches Geldof twitter photos while I send out my resume to magazines - feeling more free and alive than I can last remember. It's mortifying.

To be fair, I distinctly remember feeling this way when Max started daycare too: I was thirty, he was 14 months. I dropped him off, drove home, and chain smoked all day, blaring Eminem and lip-synching to the beats. Ahh, those were the carefree days, in the shitbox house - things seemed so much simpler then. Why is it so?

Rocco started yesterday. I finally got him into a place two days a week. Which will probably go up to three days, once mummy gets a proper real-life JOB. (Dear Job Fairy ... help.) It's his second day today, the centre operator rang me at lunchtime, making me panic. "Oh, don't panic .. I'm just ringing to tell you he really is having a wonderful day. We all love him, he's such a cute baby."

Then, she proceeded to tell me the best news ev-ah ..... "He's so great ... he's the favourite already." I don't believe in favouritism - unless it's being directed at my sons, heh.

I was so proud of him that I cried when I got off the phone.

No more newborn stage.


I can't believe I wanted him for so long and yet I was so giddy at offloading him. I tried telling Dave how I felt. His response?

"Ahhhh, just put him in every day now, hon. He'll be fine."


PS If anyone flames me about this post, don't. I've had bad PND, which I think has been the the biggest factor in feeling so good about daycare. Until you walk a mile to the cancer clinic in my size 10 cowboy boots, you can go fuck yourself.

PPS I just "pretended" to take a photo of my computer (yes I was on Facebook but it was only quick I swear) ... but I actually took a photo of the guy across from me in the cafe. It's fuckin' Billy Joel! I didn't know he was in Australia!

(I don't think it really is him - but the resemblance is uncanny).

EDITED TO ADD: Oh how I raced to pick him up! The reunion! The love in the room! I can't wait to spend the next few days with him.
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