He wasn't ready. I wasn't. Or so I thought
He wasn't ready. I wasn’t. Or so I thought.
Mr F had his first ever sleepover on Saturday.
We had had my Mum come and stay a month ago and do all bed time routine with the little dude and tend to anything he needed overnight.
It went well. The next step was an actual OUT OF THE HOUSE sleepover.
With the imminent arrival of baby girl, it was important I finally pulled this band aid and let family in to help.
It’s not as though the concept of a sleepover hadn’t been mentioned by family previously; It was me who was struggling with the idea of the separation. I had never spent a light away from him and had not participated in perhaps only a handful of bath and bedtimes. I had been a constant for him in his bed time routine.
And the intrusive thoughts around the whole sleepover situation had also become incredibly difficult to handle/manage my nervous system around.
But I knew it needed to happen.
In the lead up to the drop off, we talked excitedly with him about how he was going to have a sleepover with his Narnie and Aunty Manda (the live together caring for my elderly grandparents) and all the things he was going to do. We reassured him that if he didn’t feel comfortable at any stage we could come and get him.
He was pumped.
The drop off was easy. He waved us off as he took off to start activities.
Mitch and I got back in the car and off we went.
I was a little distracted on the way home but ultimately, I didn’t feel the anxiety I thought I would.
Mitch and I a slow dinner together and a leisurely time cleaning up the kitchen. We turned something other than cartoons on the TV.
I fell asleep easily. I had a completely normal night. I didn’t stay up waiting for updates. I did send a text checking in early in the morning though but the little guy was still asleep.
I ended up not having to rush to get him. He was happy to see me but when I did but still excited to be where he was.
It was all a complete success.
Here’s what I learnt.
I am still putting pressure on myself to be able to meet more of his needs than I need to. Much of the time, it is harder for me than it is for him. I am still struggling with the ability to let people in to share in his gloriousness. I am attached to what my role has been in the past, without being able to properly reconcile who I would be if he didn’t need me as much.
So whilst I welcome his independence in one sense, I am also terrified of my worth changing in his eyes as well as my own.
But here’s the thing, when I actually find the strength and courage to do the thing or let go of the thing, we both end up having a nourishing experience.
His worlds expands as mine does. It isn’t as hard as I told myself it was going to be.
And now as we gear up to meet baby girl in a matter of a couple short weeks, I know that he will be fine and I will be fine.
We are ready.
How did you go in this transition? Or are you on the cusp of doing the same thing?