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Silly woman

June 27, 2013

I took Hope round to her lovely child minder earlier, all excited and full of beans (both of us), she looking forward to a day playing with her small friends and me thinking about nipping up to the farm shop to do some shopping, get an iced coffee (a rare treat) and driving with the roof down (something I so miss when I have Hope in the car with me). She waved happily at me from her position on the right side of the ‘three up’ push chair and then started holding hands with the little girl next to her and I watched them go down the street thinking how lucky we are to have found such a caring wonderful person for her to spend time with.

I drove to the corner shop to pick up some yoghurt and as I was getting out of the car I realised I was crying. Not just crying, but from nowhere a whole barrage of sobs. I got back into the car and sat there for a little while feeling a total wally, shaking violently and sobbing. I can’t think where it came from … I rang a friend up and all I could say was, “I miss Hope”.

This whole parenting lark does send you totally bonkers, it plays with your emotions and can scramble your sense. I think she thought that I’d not seen Hope for the last month the way I was crying, I explained what had happened and she listened patiently (bless her) and we talked about random other things and I recovered myself. Embarrassed, I thanked her, belted into the shop, still feeling a bit shaky and bought some bread (I totally forgot the yoghurt).

I don’t know, perhaps it’s the aftermath of a very busy week, this is (for the first time) the third day in a row she’s been with a child minder – a different one each day, two regular ones and yesterday when I had to organise a conference she went to her boyfriend Alfie’s childminder. She’s an adaptable little soul and has been happy. I’ve been flat out with work (which is great for one with very little income and self employed) and looking after her alone as her precious Granby has been in Switzerland with one of her oldest friends (also mid 80s … indomitable admirable wonderful women the pair of them), so I guess I’m a bit tired. There was all the excitement of the BritMums conference at the weekend, the big spread in the Mail on Sunday and subsequent lovely emails that people have sent sharing their own difficult stories on the road to having a child. All in all it’s been an emotional and exhausting week.

I also realised that, when she was waving from the pushchair heading off for the day with her little friends, all I’d wanted to do was to go with them. To play in the park, to sing songs at playgroup and to watch her eating her lunch, handful at a time. I didn’t want to be working (interesting though my current contract is), I’d waited so long for my own small person to arrive and there I was sending her off with someone else.

I know this is an age old dilemma and that being self employed I’ve been lucky to be with her more than many working mothers are with their children, but for me this was the first time that the reality of how very much I miss her when I’m not with her hit me square on the nose… and it made me cry.

Silly woman … sentimental fool … maybe it’s hormones, I don’t know!

hey ho

right … best get on with more work… and not simply count down the hours until I pick her up, hold her close and hear her say, “Mummi???” in a questioning manner and feel her pull my hair before she punches me on the chest and says, “mo mulk mummi”.

I can’t wait.

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