It's been about 7 months since I wrote my last blog post. I had got to the point where closing down the blog seemed to be the right thing to do. After much deliberation I have decided to stick with it but the plan is to refresh the look and revamp the writing. Letting go of the past is something I have been working on for the last 2 years. When I started this blog 5 years ago I started it because I wasn't happy. I needed to feel connected and it felt easier to connect to people online who were feeling the same as me. I recently decided to end my counselling sessions as I felt I had learned so much about myself and where I was going that I needed time to consolidate it all in the context of my life. I'm happy to report that I am doing fine. The need to blog lessened as the contentment grew until it got to the point that I really felt I had nothing to say but was enjoying being in my life rather than reporting on it. I've been glad of the break but I have missed the writing. So there will be changes happening over the next few months but I am excited to be back.
There is another aspect of change and letting go that I haven't discussed.
Our little Grumpinator started school. I can't quite believe it. The night before his first day I lingered a little longer at bedtime, stroking his head, kissing his cheeks and thinking with a heavy heart that I wish I'd embraced the early years more. I wish I had enjoyed him more as a baby. I wish I hadn't been in such a rush to see him meet his milestones. It's bittersweet of course because I am extremely proud of the young boy he has become and I am excited for him embarking on this next challenging stage of life.
As I dressed him in the morning before school the lump in my throat was almost visible. I held it together because I felt his anxiety and didn't want to add to it. A thousand thoughts travelled through my head that morning. Will he have friends? Will he know where the toilets are? Who will remind him to flush the toilet? How will he sit still for longer than 5 minutes? Will he drink the milk? Who will comfort him if he is sad or hurts himself? Will the teacher understand his little idiosyncrasies? Will he be polite and remember his manners? A thousand thoughts but the main one was really more about me than him. How will I manage when I miss him?
His loud screeching voice echoing through the house (usually when Jamie is napping) will become silent. The endless lego sets which are strewn across the floor will remain tidied away in their boxes. The fridge will no longer be raided and half empty by lunchtime. So many changes at home now that he is gone for six hours a day. Left in his place is JBoy who is moving into his next stage from baby to toddler. I'm sure he will keep me busy but at the moment the house is emptier and the conversation is only really centered around Fireman Sam and Octonauts.
Nevertheless, I have to let go. I have to let him become who he is going to be and accept that this stage is a beautiful one. Where the roots that we have sewn push through the surface and begin to grow. Where we catch a glimpse of that greenery of life beginning and marvel at its growth. It is the first of many growth stages. The first of many silent tears and lumps in throat and the first of many moments of pride for my baby who is now my boy.