Mummy Struggles.

Dear Beanie,

I'm feeling... sad, my love. You know your Baby Faces book? I'm the sad face. I read a saying once (have I told you?): having a child is like having your own heart living and breathing and walking around outside of your own body. When you are sad, I am sad. When you are scared, I am scared. When you are bubbling with joy, so am I! And when I drop you off at krippe and you desperately don't want to go, when you just want to stay in my arms forever, I just want you in my arms forever.

Two weeks ago, when you saw that pretty colourful door with all those little painted handprints on it, you were babbling and jumping about in your stroller, desperate to get out and go play. Today, you saw that door and started wailing, arms in the air, turning as far around as you could so you could perhaps grab a hold of me. When I leave you there in another woman's arms when you are like that, reaching for me, me heart just breaks. Today, I sat outside on the steps for five minutes and listened to you cry, waiting for it to get better. You continued to cry and cry and cry, and so I started crying listening to you. I realised that if I was to go back and get you, like every part of my being was begging me to, I'd sabotage all the hard work both you and I have done in making sure that you can predict what happens on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I'd perhaps have to start you off from the start again with all the introduction days we did, and I think in the long term it would make it harder for you. But in the short term? I just wanted to race straight in there and snatch you away.

I want to justify myself to you, my love. I have made this decision so that you can have fun with other kiddies around your age and a little older, which I know will do you wonders. I have made this decision to expose you, immersion style, to the Swiss German language when your language centres are the most pliable. But of course I am doing this for me too. I am doing this to allow me some time to breathe and to rediscover myself as a writer, which will give me the energy to be a better mum to you, to play with you more energetically, to give you my undivided attention when you need and want it. Your grandparents, aunties and uncles aren't around to take you for a few hours here and there, my love, and so this is the next best thing.

Although everyone says this is normal for kids who begin Krippe, it isn't normal for us. And you have me wondering if all those reasons above are really worth it and if this really is the right thing for us. I don't know right now. And today, instead of enjoying my time with a free mind to work on creating my novel, I worried about whether I am doing the right thing, for everybody. But that is parenthood I suppose. I hope that every time I'm met with tough decisions I don't spend too many hours crying in toilets while I worry about you!

I miss you, my love. You are my light. 

I love you.

Love, Mummy.

Photos of you at 9 and at 5 months, by Olga Bushkova