It’s strange. I miss Oliver but neither of us have gone anywhere really. I suppose I almost miss my preschooler being a baby. I suppose it’s not that I miss Oliver, but I miss one on one time with him.
It feels like it’s been forever since I really had that.
I’ve been busy trying to sort out my blog and busy planning #CBM16 then away last weekend for the event itself.
Oliver’s been at preschool every Monday to Friday morning since he started nursery in January and he’s started napping again in the afternoon. He’s even started sleeping better at night.
But I miss him.
I’m really proud of how he’s settled in and happy that he’s obviously getting the chance to burn off the energy that he needs to while at nursery to be sleeping so well again.
But I miss him.
I miss lounging around in our pyjamas in the morning and watching Bing Bunny, 1,295,678 times a day with him when he’s not feeling great because Daddy is at work. I miss him insisting that he needs to stay in the bathroom while I have a shower. I miss him stroking my hair. I miss him asking me how things work. I miss him asking if we can go upstairs and just wrestle on my bed, ending up just laying there cuddling and talking about silly things or singing songs. I miss him coming in to my bed in the middle of the night.
I miss him relying on me 24/7.
I miss knowing that I taught him everything he knows.
I miss the sense of relief I used to feel when R walked through the door from work, instead of knowing that I’m never going to get that long cuddle now.
I miss the feeling of freedom as I leave him with his Nana and Grandad for a weekend.
So yes, I miss him.
I miss my preschooler.
I miss Oliver.
Linking Up to: