A New Kind of Free

J is registered to start nursery soon, so these few weeks will be settling-in sessions for him, an orientation if you like. Our first session was on Tuesday and I was sitting beside him the whole time, as one of the staff went through numerous forms with me. He sat in my lap at first, then slowly, with some coaxing, started to venture out. He never went far, but seemed to be quite at ease.

Today was our second session. And I was asked to leave him. We sat together for a while, again with him in my lap, then him slowly venturing out. And before long, he was crawling over to check out a pile of toys, then next, a chest of books. The carer gave me the signal and I left in as inconspicuous a manner as I could.

Did I feel worry or sadness at leaving my boy behind? I think I was too busy trying to leave unnoticed to be emotional. I was, in part, also confident that J would be alright and, in fact, will be having too much fun to miss me. 

And unabashedly, I admit I was on a bit of a high, as I realised I was stealing away to my freedom. This realisation came upon me, when I was sitting in the car again and thought, "Darn! I should have brought a book, so that I can just sit in the car, in case J cries and they can't manage and call me to come back..."  After all, I really only had an hour's break...

In the end, I decided an hour's good time anyway and sped away to the mall. And I was not wrong. In that one hour, I checked out the baby section in a departmental store, went to the pharmacy, and walked from one end of the mall to the other. I contemplated having a fancy lunch to luxuriate in my own company, but figured that one hour would be too short for such a significant indulgence and perhaps, I ought not to celebrate too early. I had no specific shopping in mind, but suddenly decided that I would pick up my favourite salad and soup for lunch, and so brisk-walked to the other end of the very linear mall. As I passed by my various favourite shops, I toyed with the idea of browsing, but really, there was no time. I promised myself to do so on a proper nursery day.  It is funny how when one is pushed, one prioritises. And so even if I did not go everywhere my shopaholic heart was trying to pull me to, I did what I wanted to do - get my beautiful lunch - and then went back to fetch my boy.

I was 15 minutes late and for a minute, the thought went through my head: What a bad mummy I am to be late the very first time to fetch my boy from nursery, cos I have been shopping?! But I soon brushed that thought away, refusing to be chained or held captive by silly emotional blackmail or crippled by narrow-minded thinking about what makes a good mother. I reminded myself not to apologise for being slightly late and breezed through the nursery doors to sweep my boy in my arms. 

When he saw me for the first time, I thought J's face sort of became a bit red and for a moment, I thought he was going to burst into tears. But he was alright; he just gave a bit of a start at seeing me, as if his mind was juggling a little to figure out who this familiar face was. I could almost hear the click in his mind when he remembered I was Mummy and started crawling rapidly and excitedly towards me. I picked him up and was it my imagination, or was that an especially strong, tight hug? Or perhaps I was the one squeezing him and not vice versa? :)


The carers went on to tell me how he had been a most wonderful ward. Just smiling the whole time and playing happily. And how he wanted to share his banana with his carer at mealtime. He cried briefly when they went outdoors, but curiosity soon took over and he was off again, busily checking out the garden. So, all seemed well and J certainly seemed to have become a hit at the nursery with the adults.

As we walked back to the car today, I felt myself swelling with pride, like a proud mummy hen. On the way home, my boy fell promptly asleep and while he slept, this mummy wa busily devising plans for her future adventures and escapades on these glorious nursery days! Yes! :)


PS: Thanks, Daddy Low, for insisting that J goes to nursery, so I get some "Me" time :)