The deed is done. The dastardly and dreaded daycare drop-off numero uno is officially over. Outcome? A tad bewildered, slightly perplexed, but importantly, no cascading waterfalls of tears. I on the other hand have shed a couple – all in the name of that inglorious innovation “Mother’s Guilt”.

I suppose I should be pleased he did not have to prised from my leg like some protesting hippie chained to a tree. And I really ought to be glad there were no floods of tears but the teeniest part of me wonders why not???? Is it truly such a treat to be taken away from Mummy for a morning? I guess when there is a motley crew of excitable kiddies waiting to greet you at the door, and a vast array of new toys on offer and new environment to be explored, there is really no reason to get upset. Right??? Well, that’s what I am telling myself anyway.

Plus, like any man, the way to his heart is through his stomach. And there being food on offer as I left proved the perfect distraction tool for my culinary loving little one. His big blue eyes did follow me all the way out the door, wide eyed and of course curious but my little champ stayed strong.

And despite my threats, I bravely did not sit myself on the park bench opposite the Centre, disguised behind sunglasses, a magazine and hot chocolate, and wait out the 4 hours in anxious anticipation, on hand in case I was needed. No, I managed to keep it together til I came home to a comforting hug from the husband and a few reassuring words.

Of course I have already rung to make sure he is still ok (yes, I have only been home half an hour but its at least put my mind at ease, I think…). And still, no tears! Seems I have one very independent son who’s Mummy is already surplus to requirements!!!!

Lets just wait til his morning nap time; I gather they’ll garner some longing tears for Mummy then!

Now, time to keep busy (so I stop watching the clock) and savour this rare peace and solitude while it lasts…