When children go to daycare for the first time

My babies are going to Bali. Without me. Yes, really. Every Monday and every Thursday.

Bali: that's the name of the baby group at the daycare. It's happening, it's real, after six months: Bodi and Daaf are going to daycare and I'm going back to work full-time. The leave is over and that feels a bit strange, but also very good.

Recognizable as a mother? You've been enjoying your bubble at home for weeks and everything revolves around onesies in size 62 or size 68, pacifiers with giraffes or little foxes on them, and in the evenings pureeing parsnips or cauliflower. Wonderful. Sometimes you think: wasn't there a world outside this house? And then you cuddle with your little baby and that thought quickly fades away. But now the boys are going out into the wide world – and so am I.

Well, I find it hilarious that there is a daycare in Amsterdam-Zuid where all the groups get a trendy name, mainly invented to keep the oat milk latte-drinking yuppie mothers with Bugaboo strollers happy. I fully belong to this group, but having to say that Bodi and Daaf are going to Bali is just a step further than doing the grocery shopping at Marqt with the q and ordering quinoa salads via Uber Eats.

That my boys are going to daycare is the beginning of a new phase. Me as a working mother. Did I ever doubt whether I wanted to go back to work ? No, never. I don't see work as something that has to be done or is obligatory or 'how it should be'. I see it as something I enjoy, that is part of me, that makes me who I am. It enriches me. I love nothing more than writing, especially when I do it with love for a brand that I find beautiful. And that fits me. I've been crawling in the Amayzine world for two years now and just now that I'm a mother, I find it special that this still suits me best. Suddenly that world is back, outside the bottle machines and the drawer full of burp cloths. We can talk again about wine on Friday afternoons and the latest boots from Zara. I will work less than I used to. That is a conscious choice: I don't want to be away from my children more days a week than I am with them. It is a privilege that I have that choice, that I can choose for fewer hours at work and more hours at home with my family. And everyone can decide for themselves: I also know enough mothers who keep their full-time jobs and take their child to daycare five days a week. And those daycares aren't even called Bali, Ibiza, or St. Tropez, can you imagine.

Ah, although I can dutifully say that I find it 'so normal to go back to work' and that I think it's 'good for the development that my boys meet other children at a daycare', I still catch myself with a little tear today. Are those damn mother hormones back again? Probably. But I also see it as the end of a very special chapter in my life: my baby bubble life. My weeks 24/7 with my children. The first phase as a mother. That is now over. It's good, it's beautiful, I don't want to make a fuss, but still. May I miss them a little on Monday and Thursday?.

Fortunately, we just had a little nap together

in the big bed. Because such a first daycare day is exhausting. We dreamed of palm trees, sun, and sea. About cheerful swim shorts. About fresh fruit, sand to play in, and searching for shells. It could have easily been in Bali. Tessa with her child in her arms Are those damn mother hormones back again? Probably. But I also see it as the end of a very special chapter in my life: my baby bubble life. My weeks 24/7 with my children. The first phase as a mother.