A New Phase

Funny how a new routine can make one reflect. My son started playschool yesterday, so now we have a new routine of bringing him there in the morning for three hours, then collecting him. It has made me get all sentimental about how my son is starting to grow up. School once seemed such a long time away, now suddenly I’m making a lunch in the morning and packing his Spiderman schoolbag. School ‘proper’ will most likely start in September 2011 and this is good preparation. I was never sent to playschool; was thrown in at the deep end at the age of 4, and can remember taking a long time to adjust. That’s not what I want for my son. School is never easy for kids so I’d like the transition made as pain-free as possible for him.

My son is officially no longer a toddler now. He is a little boy. That’s kind of strange for me. The ‘baby phase’ is definitely gone, for both my kids. We have gotten rid of things like the cot, steriliser, playpen, changing table etc., and no we definitely won’t be needing them again, for health and other reasons, but I won’t go into that in this post, if ever. Some people would find it sad that their children are no longer babies (though my twenty month old daughter still has some ‘toddling’ to do yet and has many ‘babyish’ ways) but although it does feel a bit weird, I find it sort of exciting.

It signifies a new phase in my life, not to mention theirs. Ever so slightly frightening, but also exhilarating in a funny way. So many (good) changes have taken place already in my life in the past seven years. Not always easy changes to cope with, especially when some of them all came together (try finding out you’re unexpectedly pregnant on the day you move into your new house in a new town, deciding to bring forward your wedding and having to arrange it in two months, then having a baby a few months later!), but still all for the best. Even this past year there have been changes, but I’m happy with where I’m at, and since we can’t avoid change, why not embrace it. I’ve no choice but to ‘allow’ my kids to grow up, so I intend to, rather than lament the fact that they are not babies anymore, get excited about all the things they are going to learn, and how they are going to develop as ‘little people’.

As for myself, there is slightly more freedom when one’s children are not babies anymore, not much maybe, but a little. It also means I’m getting older, but hey, I’m finally coming to the age I’ve felt I was for years anyway. I’m ‘growing into myself’ and maybe that’s why I’m at last becoming comfortable in my own skin. I can only imagine this feeling increasing as I move closer to middle age, at least that’s what I’m hoping. I shudder (but with a knowing grin) when I think of how depressed I was at turning twenty-seven, now that I would be in my late twenties! But I was going out with a moron at the time who made me feel pretty crap about myself. Now I’m with someone who (mostly!) accepts me as I am. I can honestly say I’m looking forward to my fortieth birthday in four years. Hands up who wants to be a happy old fart along with me!