It has been three and a half months of no childcare for us. These months feel like a blessing and a curse at the same time. They gave me the chance to spend all my time with my little one once again, an opportunity we might never have like this again. But it also meant lack of sleep, private time and the constant struggle to get my work done. We now have one week to go until nursery reopens. And I can say: I can’t wait.
I can’t wait to have a full, uninterrupted day of work once again. To get the apartment tidied up without having to make sure my little one doesn’t drink the cleaning water, drops a glass or climbs on a ladder.
But most of all I can’t wait for him to go back to a place where he gets to play with children his age all day in a safe place. Where nobody has to tell him to stay away from other children. Where they even encourage him to play with others. Because I have noticed that lately he doesn’t even approach other children in the park anymore. It seems even the tiny ones learnt how to keep a distance, probably by copying us grown ups.
I also can’t wait for him to gain some more indolence once again. The longest we have been apart during the last few months in one go was three hours. And my friend who took him for a walk those times said that after about two and a half hours he started asking and looking for me. My child who never even wants to go home from nursery after eight or nine hours, who is happy to see me but wants to stay and play, this child is now not used to being without his mum for three hours. We did not have that problem ever since he was nine months old, as he is incredibly social, trusting and outgoing.
I know all these are small, minor things. I know he will get back to his usual self once he gets out of the house and away from me a bit more again. But it breaks my heart a little bit when I notice these changes. And it reminds me how incredibly grateful I am for the nursery we usually have, for the great work they do there and the happy little man I have the honor to raise.