Rex has now started at the childminder - he is going all day on Wednesday and Thursday mornings in the hope that this time will give me the opportunity to get some writing done and therefore bring in some pennies!
I, of course, was overly angsty about it. I spent time explaining to Rex about how he would be able to play with other children and that I would get him at the end of the day and we would have a chat about his day and a biscuit. He nodded sagely and then threw a balloon at me which bounced off my head.
I felt he understood.
Each session he has happily waved me off while simultaneously trying to reach the wires behind her tv or kiss one of the girls there (who says boys can't multitask?!) and, from the little reports in his book, he has a fab time.
I come home. And feel quiet. It is weird how you miss a little whirlwind deconstructing the house daily, putting bread crusts in your glass of water, changing the tv channel (to the girlsxgirlsxgirls channel, every time. Seriously. Luckily we don't actually receive that channel so all he gets is a blue screen....) and emptying the cupboards.
I sometimes feel a bit emotional, my little baby is getting grown up and I miss him when he is off learning new things.
And then I remember I can watch last night's Great British Bake Off in peace. And paint my nails. And eat my lunch without having a one year old stick his spoon in my bowl every two seconds.
And I feel less sad.
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