Monday, February 02, 2009

 
School.

simple, right? he puts on his clothes in the morning and I drop him off, just like we've been doing 3-4 days a week at childcare for a couple of years now.

no, not simple. I did cry - just one tear, enough to know it was getting to me. the coffee gathering in the general-purpose room gave me a stop along the way, and probably prevented me sobbing all the way home.

husband came too, but went to work as soon as we left the classroom.

A. has a set of lovely long-sleeved cotton shirts with collars - he wanted those, and I had to persuade/trick him to get him to unbotton the top button. apparently he thinks that's what schoolboys wear.

as usual when I drop him off, he found a spot and an activity and got on with it, with not much more than a "bye Mum". tomorrow I probably won't even get that.

and he is still so sweet and loves to cuddle me and kisses the back of my hand and tells me how much I love him (no that's not a typo) and all that will change with learning and with the influence of bigger kids in the playground.

I felt lost when I got home; couldn't settle to the usual writing tasks, and eventually gave myself permission to read a book for work purposes, the sort of thing I usually restrict to after hours. now I've got two hours before I pick him up and have to go soon for a shorter-than-usual swim.

my son's a schoolboy.

and under all this is a recent feeling that yes, I really do want another baby - particularly today - not sure if I'm afraid of the new freedom of him being at school, if I miss my baby, or if I just want that second one. the little girls in their checked dresses did tug at my heart today. I'm also getting sick of being menopausal - there's a new kind of thinness to my skin and I feel like I'm becoming more watery under my skin - and not sure if I can hold out 18 more months on the pills and injections. if I'm going to have another baby, and I stopped the drugs at 43, I could be sure of doing it, if at all, before I was 45. If I wait till next year, it might feel too late - it's only another year but I've waited so long already.

changes. I know now to ride it out a little, to feel my way through. I am regaining my ability to waste time, to feel like I won't die next month. I guess that's a good thing.

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