Tonight after school, Boy is headed to Prep&Play for half an hour while the Y1 parents have their first meeting with his new teacher. All I could think as I sent the booking email to the office was 'I'm so glad he doesn't have to do this every day, I'm so lucky I get to pick him up when the bell rings and bring him straight home.' Last week, Posh Mama and I were trying to organise this year's swimming lessons and the simple fact was, if we swam on any day other than a Wednesday when she's off work she wasn't going to get to see her own daughter swim. I could have chosen any damn day I like...
I guess this week I was reminded of the fact that I am an extremely lucky Mama. I'm not saying that I shouldn't grumble or moan and feel emotional when my babies are away from me, my feelings are just as valid as any other mother's, but I think sometimes it is good to remember that there is always someone out there who would give anything for what you've got.
So along with my Monday positivity, I have decided to TRY and embrace my new found mornings of freedom. Am trying to look at those long 9 hours as a blessing, an incredibly valuable commodity that I am lucky to get. Because I am lucky. I don't have to return to work, I don't have to put my children into care full time and I don't even have to keep them at home with me until they're 3 because I can afford to pay for nursery. I have the luxury of being able to choose, and Toddler attending nursery for two mornings a week is the choice I have made.
So this Mama has started yoga classes. Faced with two empty mornings a week, and still having little to no energy in the evenings with which to combat my 8pm Pilates classes, I have swopped one of them to a daytime Yoga class at the little health studio that's just opened up in town. Tuesdays at 10.30am will now find me bending and stretching in whole new ways...man, yoga is hard work! Who knew? I always thought yoga was the gentler, more relaxed, chilled out sister to Pilates. But it would appear not. I like it, though. The teacher is just the right amount of oddball, any more talk of the moon wreaking havoc and I'd have snorted and made my excuses, but she's just right.
It's not easy dropping them both off in a morning and Toddler isn't yet convinced it's the way forward. I suspect it will take some time to adjust. I hate coming in from the school run and hearing the silence. I hate walking around town without a pushchair or a little one to chat to (I constantly feel on edge, worried I look like I'm loitering or 'casing the joint' for later??) But Yoga yesterday morning was lovely. I had that amazing buzz you get from doing something selfish yet active and it meant that I had the whole evening to tidy, clean, watch Gilmore girls, chat to Husband... Toddler starting nursery means I have effectively regained 'adult-time', and that can only be a good thing for a Mama who openly admits that she is shit at prioritising her marriage (despite her best efforts!)
So yes, positive thinking. Whenever I have a wobble this week, I am going to count my blessings!
I guess this week I was reminded of the fact that I am an extremely lucky Mama. I'm not saying that I shouldn't grumble or moan and feel emotional when my babies are away from me, my feelings are just as valid as any other mother's, but I think sometimes it is good to remember that there is always someone out there who would give anything for what you've got.
So along with my Monday positivity, I have decided to TRY and embrace my new found mornings of freedom. Am trying to look at those long 9 hours as a blessing, an incredibly valuable commodity that I am lucky to get. Because I am lucky. I don't have to return to work, I don't have to put my children into care full time and I don't even have to keep them at home with me until they're 3 because I can afford to pay for nursery. I have the luxury of being able to choose, and Toddler attending nursery for two mornings a week is the choice I have made.
So this Mama has started yoga classes. Faced with two empty mornings a week, and still having little to no energy in the evenings with which to combat my 8pm Pilates classes, I have swopped one of them to a daytime Yoga class at the little health studio that's just opened up in town. Tuesdays at 10.30am will now find me bending and stretching in whole new ways...man, yoga is hard work! Who knew? I always thought yoga was the gentler, more relaxed, chilled out sister to Pilates. But it would appear not. I like it, though. The teacher is just the right amount of oddball, any more talk of the moon wreaking havoc and I'd have snorted and made my excuses, but she's just right.
It's not easy dropping them both off in a morning and Toddler isn't yet convinced it's the way forward. I suspect it will take some time to adjust. I hate coming in from the school run and hearing the silence. I hate walking around town without a pushchair or a little one to chat to (I constantly feel on edge, worried I look like I'm loitering or 'casing the joint' for later??) But Yoga yesterday morning was lovely. I had that amazing buzz you get from doing something selfish yet active and it meant that I had the whole evening to tidy, clean, watch Gilmore girls, chat to Husband... Toddler starting nursery means I have effectively regained 'adult-time', and that can only be a good thing for a Mama who openly admits that she is shit at prioritising her marriage (despite her best efforts!)
So yes, positive thinking. Whenever I have a wobble this week, I am going to count my blessings!
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