At the creche

I must say that nothing has made me feel as guilty in my whole life as the feeling I get when we drop Grace into creche before we go to work. It is a horrendous, gut wrenching feeling and I find it very difficult.

I always wonder is she happy? Does she fret?

I have no worries whatsoever about her carers, they are wonderful women and I know they work very hard.

Because I find it so difficult to leave her, Seamus takes her into the creche and collects her while I wait in the car.

Yesterday, Seamus was working late, so I went ahead to collect Grace from creche.

When I walked into the room, I spotted her straight away among the other six or seven kids. She didn't see me. I asked the carer not to make her aware that I was in the room. I just wanted to watch her.

She was busy inside a playhouse that had a cooker with an oven, a few teddy bears and a gate. I watched her open the oven door, lift up a Winnie the Pooh bear, sit down and pretend to feed the bear. She was lost in her own world of imagination. Then she opened the gate of the play house and set Winnie the Pooh bear outside the gate. She closed the gate and went back to the cooker. I could see from her face that she was completely content. She was happy. She was not fretful. She was a beautiful little girl who was having a brilliant time playing with toys and interacting with the other children.

Those few minutes that I absorbed myself watching her were the happiest few moments of my year to date. I was so proud of her, so in love with her. And then she saw me. And from the smile that filled her little face I knew that she loved me too. x