Do all good things end?

I returned to work last March, in a part time capacity, with a planned staging back to full time.  I had the luxury, given the seniority of my role, of starting at 3 days per week for 3 months, followed by 3&1/2 days for 4 months, and then was able to extend the 4 days per week out for a whole 9 months.  It has been such a joy to have Friday’s with my little girl. Not that we did anything amazing – we just hung out.  Sometimes it was about her having a big nap, catching up on shorter naps from daycare.  She might be rather glad of the change, but I have almost always made her scrambled eggs for Friday lunch.  We would often go out for a skinny latte and baby chino on a Friday morning, and watch the world go by on Errol Street.

I am not looking forward to her being in daycare 5 days a week.  There is something in me that does not feel quite right about this.  Which is not to say that her daycare isn’t lovely, and she is happy there.  Quite the opposite.  What gets her out of the house in the morning is the phrase do you want to go to daycare, and there is an almost instant rush to the door, and a sense of hurry up Mum and Dad!  It is something about that the fact that she will almost spend more time there, than with her parents, that somehow does not feel quite right.  Best I fast-track that as yet unknown idea that will make me a cool million!  Or at least I need to use some annual leave to continue having some regular mum and little girl days.

My last Friday is being followed by a last Sunday – I am sad to see the North Melbourne Market, hosted by Thread Den, drew its final curtains today.  Do all good things end? Perhaps, but when one thing ends it allow for something else to blossom and grow.

all good things must end