I just didn’t see it coming.
I’m actually ashamed to admit it, but last week I was made redundant. I still have my other job to keep me busy of course, but it was like a sledgehammer hit me sideways. I was left winded, gasping for breath and I am still feeling incredibly emotional about it all.
I suppose the signs were there. Slowly my responsibilities had been dropping off; I could tell I wasn’t needed as much as when I started. Certainly some days my heart just wasn’t in it; whereas other days it was the most fantastic role I had ever taken on. It seems everybody but me was prepared to move on to something bigger and better, and whilst I saw the merits of this change, I was possibly burying my head in the sand a little.
You see, over two weeks ago my eldest child started school. Sure we’d practised with school shoes, peeled bananas and opened and closed the lunchbox on and off over Summer (long way to go with the shirt buttons, mind you), but this ‘going to school every weekday’ business is quite frankly something I was unable to prepare my heart for.
Mornings are busy and chaotic and rushed, and I feel like I am bellowing instructions from the moment we get up. I steel my face as his eyes dart frantically about the schoolyard looking for someone, anyone, to play with, and his sweaty, tiny hand clutches mine tighter.
But then he spies a little friend, and just like that (*Pffttt), he is gone. Oh I am still wildly busy, what with my younger daughter and work, but such a huge chunk of my day ( & heart) has quite suddenly gone.
No longer required.
Walk away and don’t look back.
Someone else has my baby for over six hours each day.
This incredible vocation of mine is changing and whilst I am excited for both of us, I hadn’t truly anticipated this feeling of loneliness. I will be working away and I am suddenly gripped with a feeling of panic; something just isn’t quite right. And then I remember.
It’s exciting to spend some more one on one time with my daughter, but I will admit, I am a farmer’s daughter and sometimes it’s easier to to carry two buckets than one. My balance just feels out of whack.
At the end of the day, he’s happy. That makes me happy and I’m tipping the rest will follow. I’ll find my groove and have more confidence in my son finding his independence and in the system I have faithfully entrusted him to.
Now I’ve just got to stop freaking out every time I hear a siren fly down the hill towards the area of his school.
I need to stop googling ridiculously healthy lunchbox options that he will never eat.
I have to stop imagining him sitting alone at lunchtime.
And I really need to stop watching the clock!
