Word of the Week 26/09/14

This week saw the dog get spayed and Bear start nursery properly after her taster last week. And tomorrow sees the six month countdown to my 40th begin. This week is all about the

word of the week milestone

Ok, so perhaps the dog losing her bits isn’t really a milestone as such, but it’s been such a long time coming I was starting to get worried that we’d have to go through the hell of her being in season again. And with my emotions beyond the edge of reason at the moment, that is not something I could allow to happen!

word of the week nursery milestone

I’ve found the milestone of my baby starting nursery a little bit bizarre. The first day I had the expected sadness that she had gone but didn’t have a chance to cry as I had to take Bunny round to her entrance and then ended up giving one of the mum’s a lift to work. And then it got weird. When I picked Bear up after the session, I actually didn’t recognise her. She came walking round to the door, and I saw a little girl, but not my little girl. She’d already gone. That night, I woke a number of times and had to remind myself that she’d be going back in the morning, and again the next morning and the one after. And she has, much more easily and happily than I’d expected. We had a wobble yesterday morning when she asked me to pick her up and give her a cuddle and then told me she didn’t want to go in. Luckily the wonderful teacher was able to get her smiling again and she went in with minimal additional fuss. Not that it helped me as I went to work, fretting that maybe it was all too much too soon. She came out bubbling though so she’s fine!

And the final milestone that has been slowly approaching has suddenly got that little bit nearer. Forty seems so old, so grown up. And I don’t feel either of those things yet. My life isn’t sorted enough for me to be that age. I’m still debating my professional life and learning how to be a parent. I have no money yet, a house that is no closer to being finished than it was a few years ago, a slightly battered old car and a wardrobe full of clothes that seem to be getting tighter as I comfort eat my way out of my thirties. And as I swing between seeing them out in hedonistic style and working hard to make the wrong bits right, I can’t help wondering how on earth I got so close to this milestone in the first place?! So, here we go, do join me on the final leg of the journey!

The Reading Residence