I’m entering this week with a heavy heart…
You see, my biggest boy is starting school for the first time and I’m not coping to put it lightly.
Some parents might see this as something to celebrate, and yes while there is a lot to be excited about, I feel like I’m in mourning.
Actually the best word I have to describe the way I’m feeling is sort of homesick.
I feel homesick for the days I will no longer have with my boy. So much so that even writing those words makes me teary.
Granted I’m choc-o-block with hormones (thank you newborn) and I’m sleep deprived (thanks again newborn) so I’m an emotional wreck regardless, but this, this giant step into another chapter, is sending me spiralling out of control.
When Angus was born 6 years ago he changed my life forever. I kissed my job as a radio news presenter good-bye and embraced motherhood with open arms. For 22 blissful months, before his little brother arrived, we spent our days visiting parks, sipping coffees and baby-chinos, visiting friends, napping, and cuddling. Just the two of us.
Of course there were hard days, days were I struggled and slogged through, but mostly the days were perfect.
You see, Angus opened up a part of me I never knew I had. A happiness I never knew possible. A love I only ever imagined.
His brothers, and now his sister have only cemented that love and made my job, as their mother, such a privilege.
But now, I have to hand over the reigns, if only for part of our week, and I don’t think I’m ready, even if he is.
I feel greedy. Greedy for our all consuming time together, to never end. I know I will long for the all day football commentary which has at times driven me up the wall. The constant demands for another vegemite sandwich. Even the unreasonable fights over lego. I will miss it all.
But what kind of mother would I be, if I never let him go? As much as it pains me to do so, my role of loving him so much, means I have to encourage him to take these steps, so that he grows as a person.
If the time ever comes, that he happens to read this, I want him to know, that the last 6 years have been the best of my life. And the house won’t be the same, for those 5 long days a week, without our Gussy in it.
To all the prep mums out there…good luck this week, and know that you won’t be alone in your tears and mourning, but we’ll get through this together.
And for those not there yet, my advice is this, soak up every moment, even the infuriating ones, because you will blink and it’ll be gone.
The days are sometimes long, but the years are short.