First days
Small one, not yet three, has started at childcare. First day today. My own first was starting a part-time position at university. It has been exactly eight years since I last worked in a similar position in Melbourne. Since then, a PhD and child have filled my time.
Anyway.
Small one has been extremely excited about starting SCHOOL with the KIDS. We had a new lion blanket delivered, for the sleep, slung over my shoulder. Elmo was stuffed inside the monkey bag. Small one’s hair was even freshly washed.
We looked good. It was going to be good.
We arrived at the centre on time, had a look around, dropped the nappies in the required basket, deposited stuff in his locker, and then I lost sight of him. One of the carers told me he was in the cubbyhouse.
I walked over there, bent down for a kiss through the window and here’s where the truth my mother has always spoken is made flesh. If you feel worried about something, they (small ones) will pick up on it.
I looked at him, said I’ve got to go now, have a nice day, but the look in my eyes must have suggested something like, PLEASE DON’T DIE.
Oh, the crying. Oh, the guilt.
However, he made it through the day - and so did I - and thus begins a journey of meaningful employment for me. And small one getting used to the big time. Yikes.
