Mama No Work
I wrote this post about a month ago, trying to come to terms with my conflicted feelings about working and placing Thomas in daycare. After writing it, I realized that my instincts were trying to tell me something. Shortly thereafter, we pulled Thomas out of his daycare and have since transitioned him to a new school. I am not entirely sure what the problems were at his old daycare; I suspect boredom was chief among them. Regardless, he is clearly happier in his new school environment and I am very glad I listened to my son and to my instincts.
As the light peeks in from the window we wake together.
I keep my eyes closed hoping for a few more moments of sleep. Alas, I hear “Wake-up Mama! Blanket off!”
We start our day. A bowl of “Os” and a turtle DVD for Thomas. A shower for mama. All is well.
I walk into the bedroom and slip on a pair of high heeled shoes. Thomas eyes me suspiciously.
We walk into the kitchen. I take out a bottle and fill it with milk. Thomas points to it and says “bottle away” scowling.
I walk into the living room and put my computer in my bag. And then I hear it “Mama no work.”
I lean down to explain, that I must work, that I will always come back at the end of the day to bring him home, that tomorrow will be a “Mama and Thomas” day together.
It is time to go. I grab our bags. Thomas gently tries to tug his bag from my hand saying “no bag” reasoning that if I don’t have his bag he can’t go to “school” and I can’t go to work.
At school he clings to me tightly. Most days Thomas cries; other days he just looks at me longingly saying “No work, no school.” I am not sure which is worse; with crying or without. My heart breaks.
I knew that this would be hard. I was warned that the transition to daycare might be difficult, but this has blindsided me. After a relatively easy start at daycare at a year old, now at 20 months old we have seen months of protest. It is not getting easier for either of us. This is the hardest part of motherhood. I know it is probably a phase, albeit, a long one. I know that it won’t last forever.
But that thought is hard too. Someday he will skip off to school without need for a hug and a kiss, with nary a second glance. And then my heart will break all over again.