Growing up!

Miss T starts preschool this week. I can't quite believe it.
Well, maybe starts is a bit much - she has the first taster session before her official start in September. But it feels as significant as if I were packing her off, lunchbox and books in hand.
It's a very odd feeling and as usual there are all sorts of conflicting parts.
I'm torn between thinking it's vital she gets off to a good start as school is such a key part of life, and believing that actually, she's still so little that whatever happens this week, and in September, doesn't actually matter.
It doesn't help that she is still not a fan of being left and the childminder suggested this might prove to be an issue at preschool.
We have warned them, but I'm not sure they are fully prepared for a proper Miss T strop-fest...
Filling in the paperwork was also an interesting experience - I felt strangely outraged that they believed I could condense everything that was special and noteworthy about my child into three A4 pieces of paper!
At the moment, the pupil herself seems wholly underwhelmed by the idea. I've told her she will be going to school on Thursday, and it will be lots of fun, and she usually replies: "Mummy's coming?"
I tell her Mummy will take her but can't stay although I won't be long, and she just carries on with whatever she was doing.
I'm trying to portray it in a positive light for her, and for the reasons I touched upon earlier. Education is such an important thing for me that I want her to find her first experience fun and for it to instill in her a lifelong love of the classroom and learning. Maybe I'm being unrealistic!
But I'm also struggling with the fact that she still seems so small and I'm worried about how she will cope.
Will she be the only one still in nappies? (hopefully not still in them by September....) Will she be the only one crying? Shall I let her take her bunny and her dummy, both only used for sleeping or when she's ill (or being left at the childminder's on a bad day!)? Will she be the only one who still has a dummy? (I stress, only for sleeping...)
I'm sure she'll have fun, once she gets used to it (next year maybe?), but I can't help wishing we could just fast forward to that point. Wish us luck!

Thursday things

Another one of those interesting mixed days....or weeks....or should that be months....
Progress in some areas, and I'm loving spending time with Miss T when I'm not working, but issues in other places.
And, I'm afraid to confess, as usual they are my issues with other people's comments.
I picked her up from the lovely childminder's this afternoon to be told she had been unsettled, which was not unexpected as she reverted to crying when Mark dropped her off this morning.
Of course she was fine, and managed to make two Christmas decorations and play with her two best friends, but it was a bit of a change from the sessions where she waves us off happily.
Wise woman that she is, the childminder suggested the change may be due to the fact that I'm now working quite a lot, and she is now there for longer sessions instead of a two-hour play time to keep the routine going.
I'm sure she is right, and it just means a bit more time for Miss T to adjust to the change. It's by no means a disaster, and wasn't even a big deal for the childminder, who pointed out even though it had been a difficult day it was no way near as bad as the early days with lots of screaming.
But can you guess what's coming?
Massive maternal guilt! I almost went straight home and phoned my new temporary work colleagues to say I wouldn't be in!
Luckily I realised that was ridiculous but still felt quite miserable for a while.
And there was more misery after a festive visit to a friend's yesterday, where there is a small baby in the family.
He was not there but his mum was and was positively glowing with pride and love for him. It was obvious how much she loves being with him and is genuinely amazed by each new thing he does.
It was lovely to see but it did make me feel sad that I missed out on all that - part of me is still astounded that anyone can actually enjoy something I found so hellish.
But let's end on a happier note - more progress to report. I'm working on strategies to deal with those moments where I could happily strangle her (and I know for sure I'm not alone in those!) and they seem to be working. It's early days but no strangulation incidents have occured, even though there has been dog tail pulling, dog leg lifting (don't ask me why!), dog water spilling, dog food throwing....and no, the strategy does not involve getting rid of the dogs!

Quality time, and questioning

Apologies for the lack of updates - it's all busy busy busy here, you know!
So where were we? Well, Friday night was night out time again which was fantastic.
Saturday was....challenging....but we made it through (mostly by going out!).
And yesterday I was really proud of myself after having some great fun just playing with Tasha. I had an hour before I had to go out to an evening meeting and I had loads to do to get things ready, but I decided to ignore it all and we just played. And it was fantastic - we both loved it!
It also sort of made up for a difficult day with more childminder traumas. Although Tasha is fine when she's there, mostly, it is still proving very stressful. I mentioned it to her in the morning, that she would be having fun at the childminder later, and the immediate reaction was tears (her, not me!) and "no no no" which wasn't exactly what I wanted to hear.
I got a bit of a telling off from the childminder for "prolonging the agony" by staying a bit when I drop her off so the plan for next week is to dump her and run. It goes totally against whatever parenting instincts I have to deliberately do something which is making her unhappy, and every time I (or Mark) drop her off it is making her unhappy.
I know all the theory and we've talked it through and we both feel she needs the extra interaction, and to develop more independence to avoid even more traumas when she goes to preschool, but it doesn't make it any easier. Especially not when she is so happy to be dropped off at Granny's or left with Mark when I'm working.
Sigh.
When does this get easier?

i am proud of me!

Oh dear it's been one of those days!
But fear not, dear reader - I have neither cracked open the happy pills nor had rows with top level boss type people.
Today was Miss Tasha's first day with the childminder and actually, it didn't go too badly. Sure, she screamed when Mark dropped her off, and at various intervals throughout the day, but she managed a sleep and was playing happily when I picked her up.
But then it all went wrong....
All the excitement had clearly worn her out and after her dinner she quickly became grumpy so I decided on an early bath.
But while I was running it she got her beloved bunny out of her cot and was wandering around cuddling him.
And when I pointed out that it would not be a good idea to take him into the bath with her, all hell broke loose.
Gone was my lovely happy toddler, replaced by a screaming, sobbing, red-faced and angry strop machine.
Removing bunny from her sight did not help, nor did vigorous splashing, pointing out lovely coloured fish and ducks or producing her toothbrush.
I think I would have been forgiven, after a busy day at work in a sweltering office, for joining her in the sobbing or at least becoming frustrated and snapping.
But instead I did the necessary washing as quickly as possible, with plenty of cuddles and calm reassurance, and then removed the aforementioned screaming, sobbing red-faced....you get the picture - to get into her night clothes.
By this point she was in quite a state and the easiest thing to do would have been to bundle her up and dump her in bed and leave her to it.
But instead I employed the baby massage skills I learnt when she was tiny (thank you health visitor and yoga teacher!) to rub in her baby lotion, while still using my calm reassuring voice and plenty of those lovely therapy phrases like "I understand you are feeling tired and frustrated...you feel cross that mummy took bunny away" etc etc (thank you lovely therapist!).
And do you know what? It worked! So after a calming massage and another cuddle we were able to share a story, and she even joined in by pointing out the cat and dog (almost all our stories involve cats and dogs!) and giggling in the right places.
Yes, she screamed when I put her in her cot but only for a minute, and my evening has been salvaged.
And hopefully next childminder session will be better...but I know I can cope if it isn't. So I think I'm allowed to be proud of myself. Because it isn't that long ago that this evening's experiences would have sent me running for the hills...

In other news, according to a statistics thingy I have somehow managed to instal, this blog has been read by people in Italy and Spain as well as good old Blighty.
Now own up - is it really continental visitors interested in my life and woes?
Or are you all so keen you are keeping up to date while on holiday?
Answers on a postcard again, this time from exotic climes - or better still, leave a comment to confess!

I'm back!

Wow - four days without a post - that must be some kind of record!
Apologies if you've missed me - it's just been one of those weeks with so much going on.
But I think the lack of blog is a bit of a good sign, as there have been some days when I've felt like I would burst if I don't get it all out on here. Obviously not this week though!
So what's new?
Well, Miss Tasha is at the childminders at the moment and I really hope she's having fun. She screamed when I left but I'm focusing on how much she enjoyed playing with the other children before I went...
And I've been doing more thinking about this whole parent thing. I think I've said it before, but I really don't feel like a proper parent, yet I don't feel like myself either.
There are two things that really brought this home to me. The first was talking to a friend about the word "mum". It's one I hear a lot, but it just doesn't seem to apply to me. When I hear Tash saying it she could just as easily be saying dog or cat. I don't know how to explain this clearly but it just doesn't feel like I'm her mum...she must be talking about some grown-up person who would be better at looking after her.
And the other is hearing about other parents who seem able to enjoy pretty much the same life as their pre-child one. They go to music festivals, beer festivals, nightclubs, pubs - and don't seem to struggle with the same level of guilt that I would feel. Even going to work is problematic for me sometimes - if I see parents and children out together while I'm working I feel that should be me and that Tash is missing out.
Of course I know she's not, and besides I need to work to pay the mortgage and the overdraft, even if nothing else. But that old "should" word keeps rearing it's head. Days off "should" be family time, we chose to have a child so we "should" accept that lifestyle which involves a lot of nights in and family days out. And I like doing that, but should we do more by ourselves as well?
I know what my lovely therapist would say - who says I should, and that word is banned anyway.
And I can keep telling myself that, but it isn't working yet!
What does help sometimes is remembering that everyone has different ways of doing things, and Mark and I are a team so I'm sure together we can get at least some of it right. And if not there's always therapy for Tash later...
x