Snot, tears pouring down cheeks, red glassy eyes all before 830am and that was just me not to mind my little man, who I had just left in the crèche in an absolute heap.
I ran to the car my chest physically paining me wondering how I was going to transform into work mode a few minutes later when all I wanted to do was run back into the crèche, pick the twins up, go home and snuggle them for the day on the couch. I had a deep urge to do anything to never see them upset like that ever again. To do anything so that I would never feel that heartbroken ever again.
The crèche owner is an absolute angel, I know the kids like it there, they are well looked after and she looks after me too. She gave me some advice that morning. She told me to go sit in the car for five minutes and ugly cry, get all the tears out, not that I needed any reminder to cry, but do it I did! She then told me to sneak back up to the window of their play room and have a peek inside after the five minutes were up.
My heart hammered in my mouth, I was sweating as the clock was ticking and I needed to get going, to be on time for work, but I needed to make sure my little guy was ok. (Herself would buy and sell me going in there every morning and I thank God that I had only one upset twin that morning, because I would be checking in somewhere if the two had been at it!) And there he was the rogue, big huge smile on his face, sitting on teachers lap at the table with all the other kids, snacking on Cheerios and playing with Lego. No tears in sight, not on the floor lamenting my departure, but a picture of happiness.
I literally felt the big ass guilt boulder detach itself from my back and felt 20 lbs lighter as I sat back in the drivers’ seat and was now ready to get on with my working day ( on time I might add too ).
Throughout the day I got pictures sent to me of the twins painting and playing and that evening when I collected them I was met with huge smiles, full bellies and the biggest hugs I never wanted to leave. That morning may aswell have been last year, there was absolutely no sign of any upset and balance had been restored.
Me on the other hand in the rare few minutes I snatched here and there to breathe was not the better for it throughout the day. I wish the guilt would just pee off for once and for all. I work and I need to build a bridge now and get over the fact that I am a Mam and I work. I work so I can have human interaction. Bills need to be paid. I work for the kids so we can bring them out for nice meals, have little holidays, days away, treats. I work so they can see just like Daddy goes to work so does Mammy, and it is not a bad thing that I do that. I want them to have dreams, goals, have the belief that whatever they want to do that they can go do it.
I don’t want them to sit there if children are in their futures and feel the guilt that I felt today. Looking from the outside in logic tells me cop on, this is so good for them. They are entering those exciting times of first friendships. They are becoming little people in their own right.
They are walking their first proper little independent steps and it’s from the happy secure base we have built from their birth that they should feel safe and excited to walk those steps. So they are secure in the knowledge that steps can be retraced at any stage and we are always there, arms waiting for them wide open, to recharge when they feel the need to ground themselves. But as open as our arms are they should remain open for them to leave freely too and not allow our own fears hold them back.
I read a similar blog post from Ruth over at @Itsjustaphase and she’s done with Mammy guilt and I think I will follow her lead and be rid for once and for all with it too!