Tuesday, January 21, 2014

The tango with the mango and the elephant in the room

Just when I thought I'd never have anything to blog about ever again, three things happened to herald the start to 2014: (I mean apart from resolve to go to the gym, eat better and spend less). Dull.

In no particular order, they are:

1. Baby J rolled off the bed (bad, but according to the GP who listened to my rant about how I'd only turned my back to grab a pair of tights, this does actually happen to other people,  and babies are quite tough)
2. Baby J's teeth appeared (this made her mad)
3. I looked at the calendar and realised I only have weeks left until I go back to work (this made me sad)

All three events made me realise that, as time goes by, bits of babyhood are slipping away as fast as others approach. I can't catch them. I want to breathe them in, store them up and bottle them. But I can't. I can only enjoy them for a while. They are, like bubbles, delicate and fleeting. If they had a taste, it would be short, sweet sharp bursts, moreish and good.

The weaning has landed. I spend much of my time doing a tango with a mango around the high chair. Everything seems to be attracted to the mango magnet which are the pudgy hands and smiling face of Baby J and is stained bright yellow.

If I'm not locked in battle with carrot batons and purée, I'm kneeling at the altar of the Calpol fairy, or shaking teething powders onto a spoon. But that's fine, because both of these milestones help to squash down that enormous elephant in the room which had landed with a giant thump, which just won't disappear; the return to work in four weeks.

If I think about it too much, I start shallow breathing and my stomach feels like it did I knew I was going into my History A level exam. It's the only time in my life I knew, for sure, I was going to fail. Sure enough, after three fruitless hours of panic, worry and hollowness, I came out with a D. But, how I felt, frowning, as my pen froze above questions about The Reformation of Britain and Europe 1450 - 1600, will, I fear, lag leagues behind the tumult of emotions which I am trying to squash down as mid February approaches.

So, in a bid to be positive, I made a mental list about the benefits of paid employment. I know the following to be true:

Pros:
I will have conversations with people who talk back (important)
My brain might work again (this would be welcome)
I will earn money (fairly important)
I can buy things with the money (very important)
I will get to drink a hot cup of tea (crucial)
I will get to wear high heels and dress like a member of the human race (More important than you might think)
I will not need to plan my days round a trip to the supermarket
My mum and my mother in law can't wait to look after her. For this I am truly grateful.

Cons:
I will miss my baby
I will miss my baby
I will miss my baby
I will miss my baby
I will miss my baby
I will have a Blackberry
I will miss my baby

I am reminded of a time when my friend came to my hen party when her daughter was only a few precious weeks old. She had a tiny, soft, white pair of baby socks in her handbag, and as she lifted them out and held them up, an emotion flickered across her face which I can only now identify with. How a love can be both fragile, but strong.

So, I tell myself this. My lists are both true, both valid, both important. But I know that there will be moments when in the longest meeting, or on the shortest phone call, I will, for a few moments, leave the room in my mind and think about how I inhale my daughter's sweet scent when I hold her, and how I will have to resist the urge to drive to her, to hold her, and never let her go.

At least now I've written about the elephant. And I will adapt to this change as I have adapted to all the others. It'll just take some time.



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