Much like I was during pregnancy, I am sorting and organising clothes, rearranging rooms, decluttering shelves and trying my very hardest to get to the bottom of the washing pile. I'm anticipating the adjustment period where free time is rare and, whilst my nights won't be sleepless, I know there will be a new kind of emotional exhaustion in our home.
It's ironic, I know, because I'm not birthing a baby but sending my first-born off into the world. I suppose this proves one thing: the metaphorical cutting of the cord is just as powerful as the physical.
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