school sucks
Tomorrow Daniel starts school. I'm not sure I was clear about how much I'm dreading this, what with all the Yay, Montessori! bizzo from yesterday.
I know this is going to be another era of Wonderful. I mean, when he was a newborn and there were all these one year olds and two year olds and, god help me, school kids, I was SO glad mine as fresh and new because those older kids must be a real DRAG. Each age though, has been wonderful, and I've not missed the age he left behind because I don't know why. It's not like he's getting more interesting or anything, you know? The goal posts change each day, I suspect, and each day reveals a different wonder than the last. Different, not better, but still, better.
But knowing what comes next is going to be another one in the never ending series of Wow, This Kid Keeps On Improving! is intellectual only. In my heart, I'm dreading tomorrow. Right now, as I type, I'm overwhelmed by the no going backness of it all. Daniel starts school again and we'll never ever EVER have what we have now, our little team of two, where it's accepted without question that wherever I am, he is too.
I've never once wanted to stash him somewhere so I can have some time to myself. Maybe when I was going through all that fertility stuff and I'd be on a table, having done the business, with a pillow under my butt and he'd be on the floor with some toys or a colouring in book or right up in my face asking why he can't go down THAT end of the table, a little privacy would have been warranted, but still, I can't remember ever thinking I didn't want him there.
He asked me the other day what I wanted to be when I grew up, and I made up stories of ballerinas and astronauts and whatnot, when really, all I ever wanted was to be a mum. I thought that had been taken away, that chance, when I believed my life was only ever going to be shaped by my eating disorder, and by then, even I had forgotten all I ever wanted.
I'll still be Daniel's mum, I know that, so why do I feel so unsure of who I'll be once he's at school? Where by "unsure", I mean "terrified". Talk about an existential crisis, what with the turning a certain age, my kid starting school, and that certain age also heralding a time when getting knocked up is REALLY off the cards.
Because while I gave up treatment at the end of 2009, I never gav e up the hope that some kind of miracle would happen.
As an aside, my period was eightg days late last month. Eight frikkin' days, when I'm never late and when there was some serious action going on on the very day I ovulated.
Motherfucker, is all I have to say about that. The universe or fate or just dumb luck can be an asshole some times.
So anyway, I don't want all the time to myself everyone raves about. I don't want to pursue my career, because my life is here, at home, with my child.
I know this is going to be another era of Wonderful. I mean, when he was a newborn and there were all these one year olds and two year olds and, god help me, school kids, I was SO glad mine as fresh and new because those older kids must be a real DRAG. Each age though, has been wonderful, and I've not missed the age he left behind because I don't know why. It's not like he's getting more interesting or anything, you know? The goal posts change each day, I suspect, and each day reveals a different wonder than the last. Different, not better, but still, better.
But knowing what comes next is going to be another one in the never ending series of Wow, This Kid Keeps On Improving! is intellectual only. In my heart, I'm dreading tomorrow. Right now, as I type, I'm overwhelmed by the no going backness of it all. Daniel starts school again and we'll never ever EVER have what we have now, our little team of two, where it's accepted without question that wherever I am, he is too.
I've never once wanted to stash him somewhere so I can have some time to myself. Maybe when I was going through all that fertility stuff and I'd be on a table, having done the business, with a pillow under my butt and he'd be on the floor with some toys or a colouring in book or right up in my face asking why he can't go down THAT end of the table, a little privacy would have been warranted, but still, I can't remember ever thinking I didn't want him there.
He asked me the other day what I wanted to be when I grew up, and I made up stories of ballerinas and astronauts and whatnot, when really, all I ever wanted was to be a mum. I thought that had been taken away, that chance, when I believed my life was only ever going to be shaped by my eating disorder, and by then, even I had forgotten all I ever wanted.
I'll still be Daniel's mum, I know that, so why do I feel so unsure of who I'll be once he's at school? Where by "unsure", I mean "terrified". Talk about an existential crisis, what with the turning a certain age, my kid starting school, and that certain age also heralding a time when getting knocked up is REALLY off the cards.
Because while I gave up treatment at the end of 2009, I never gav e up the hope that some kind of miracle would happen.
As an aside, my period was eightg days late last month. Eight frikkin' days, when I'm never late and when there was some serious action going on on the very day I ovulated.
Motherfucker, is all I have to say about that. The universe or fate or just dumb luck can be an asshole some times.
So anyway, I don't want all the time to myself everyone raves about. I don't want to pursue my career, because my life is here, at home, with my child.
Okay, FINE. Not home. We're at the beach. GOD.
posted by aibee at 00:06
2 comments
