We've been having some really hard days lately.
My Little Mate has developed an aggressive streak. It would be easy to blame it on his having started at child care recently, but I know it goes deeper than that.
He and Little Miss Thing are now attending two days each week. He has gone from having me with him quite literally 24/7 to having two seven hour days where I am not there.
The girl is coping well. She has adjusted, has a favourite carer who she is quite attached to and no longer cries when I leave. I knew she would, independent spirit that she is.
Last Friday was the hardest yet for my Little Mate though. From the moment he woke he repeated over and over 'daycare soon' which would be great but for the fact when he says 'soon' he means 'never'. We dropped the big kids at school and when we didn't turn back towards home he started crying, increasing in volume the closer we got to the centre.
By the time we got there he was screaming and clinging to my leg. I signed them in, left the girl (who was upset by her brother's crying but otherwise fine) and headed to the kinder room where my son had to be physically removed from me. As I walked out of the building all I could hear was his yelling 'Mummy's car, Mummy's car'.
And my heart ached so much I couldn't breathe.
So why am I putting my precious son through this you may ask?
Here is why.
In the time since he started there he is noticeably speaking more, and people are understanding him better. After he recovered on Friday (which takes an hour or so, and is about as long I am biting back tears wherever I am as well) he voluntarily sat at a table with another child there. He sat and listened to a book with his carer without trying to run away. When the group had mat time, he stood a metre away from them and listened.
With any other kid, maybe none of this would be worth mention. With THIS kid, each individual thing is worthy of celebration. Together, they give me so much hope for his next few years
So when he lashes out at his siblings, when he wants to sit on my lap for hours, when he randomly loses the plot, I remind myself how much his brain is processing right now. Huge changes for a boy who does not like change.
As much as I would love to wrap him in cotton wool and protect him from hurt forever, if I do so he can't grow. Neither of us can. And that would be the cruelest thing of all.
I am so proud of my son.