I've not written a blog for sometime. Between organising and having N's birthday along with returning to work two days ago there has been one or two things going on.
This blog is being written at its rawest state. It's 6.54am and I am standing on a drizzly platform with only street lights illuminating the sky and I have just left my son in tears as I said goodbye in the car. He has had this frame of mind since bathtime last night and I feel absolutely shit.
Shit that i have had to go back to work and be in so early that the family needs to be up at 5.40am four days a week. Shit that we need the money of me going in four days a week so N needs to be in nursery. Shit that its happens not because any of us were ready, but rather that we had to.
As a result of all this shit-ness, N has suddenly decided that he is on a boob strike. Or is it that he decided its not his thing anymore? Or could it be cause the sky was grey last night? Or it could be his teeth? Either way, this has resulted in lots of crying (him and me).
I have been thinking about the boob feeds for a while. I read a blog the other week about a mum who wasn't ready to stop feeding her daughter and I think thats how I feel with N. If we stop now, then everything else has to go back to the normality of before there was a baby. Commute, work, commute, heat tea in the microwave, Eastenders, then bed.
I knew this was going to be hard - its what all other mums say. But I was organised. I had the lunches made, the bags packed and a wash on before I went to bed. But they didn't tell me how I could emotionally prepare. Can anyone?
Yes, I know it will get easier. Yes, I know it wil become the new norm for N. But - do I actually want this? Ithink that might be a post for another day.
Until then, I have managed to get a seat on the 6.57am train and at least its dry in here....
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