Wednesday, 21 November 2012

Day 3 of new job and the first fluttering’s of heavy emotion.


Why?

I miss my son.

I have sat and planned out how and when I can wisely spend my 24 days holiday allowance next year and realized I will have to rely on the childminder quite heavily.

I know he’ll be fine and looked after. It’s not that. It’s just he’s mine … my son and I miss him badly. 24 days a year doesn’t seem like enough time to spend with him one bit.

I can feel myself getting revved up inside. Massive hump lump in my throat and millimetres from tears. My hope is that I will soon become busy at work, too busy to fret over him as much as am doing, but between you and me, I don’t want too. I have loved all this time I’ve had being a mum this year and I don’t really want to let it all go. But I’ve wrecked my brains and know what short of a lottery win, for now and the foreseeable future I have to work and earn a good wage. No words sum up the aching bond between a mum and her boy and yes I have to make this work. The place isn’t that bad really. In the distance is the genuine possibility of occasional work from home. But I’m not at the school gates holding his hand listening to him talk about how good / bad his day has been. I have to complete 6 months probation here. I’ve spoken to him in doors and once my probation is complete I’m going to request I work a 4 day week OR one day work from home a week. If they say no, then no harm done. But if they say yes I’ll be over the moon. To be at the school gates once a week will be sufficiently meaningful for me.

And now I have to stop typing before I actually start crying at my desk. Dear god get a grip women.

No comments:

Post a Comment