Sometimes you just have to eat your own words. There I said it.

This is in reference to my emotional state over the past seven days following my son leaving the fold and moving on to pastures new. Please don’t misunderstand me – I don’t mean he literally packed his nappies and baby grows and crawled out the door – simply that he has moved into his own room.

As with anything dealing with parenthood, there are different opinions on when a baby should start sleeping on their own. We were quite relaxed about when it should happen, although we had been delaying it for as long as possible as we just didn’t want him to be away from us. Surely that is normal, right?

We enjoyed having him around us. It was our new family bonding together and starting a fresh chapter in our lives, so why would we want to hide him away in a different room? And let’s not forget the practicalities of it – having a newborn close means easy access for feeds and cuddling, as well as reassuring paranoid parents that everything was all right. I remember the first few nights of sitting bolt upright in the darkness when we heard a cough and splutter.

To be fair Michael loved falling out of bed and having him nearby, especially as most nights he was bleary-eyed and grumpy, having stayed up until 1 am to watch another episode of CSI (brought it on himself).

That is all in the past now as our little man has gone. I did well up a bit, but those apron strings had to be cut and it was hard...Well it was for Michael and I, as Baby Underwood had his best night’s sleep for weeks. He didn’t need us after all.

Let’s see how long it lasts.

Anyway, if I struggled to deal with him changing rooms, how will I cope when he leaves home? Time will tell.