Things have been a bit quiet blogwise the last few weeks, sorry about that. My biggest boy started school last week and it suddenly came round really quick. So I downed tools. stepped away from the mixer and watched Dinosaur Train more times than I'd like to admit. Precious times.
I'd told myself I was going to be brave about him going. After all it would mean far less bickering over the same bit of lego, but two weeks before it really hit me. He's going to school five days a week. That means no slow, pottering on Monday mornings. No walks in the woods just me, him and Laurie on a quiet week day morning. No one to talk to when Laurie naps. No one telling me crazy dinosaur facts every five minutes and no one to hold my hand when we walk into town.
I spent a fair bit of time hiding in the kitchen, having quiet little moments by myself to let out a few tears. And a few big weeps into their daddy's shoulder.
A few friends have called their tears indulgent, but I really disagree. Mine have been a mixture of pride, anxiety and fear. Pride because he's so lovely, because amid the tears, poo and tantrums I somehow managed to shape him into a socialised little human who can make friends, talk to grown ups and is confident to go off and learn on his own. Anxiety about whether he'd be scared or upset, whether he'd cling to me afraid to take the next step. And fear because I just don't want him to be picked on or bullied. I don't want him to change who he is to fit in with other kids. And because I don't want anyone to stamp on his dreams.
Thankfully he was excited to go to school and went without tears. And thankfully I managed to hold mine in until I got to the car. I cried all the way home and then sat in the kitchen eating sweets and crying some more.
Today he fell over on the way to school and grazed both knees. He kept asking to go home for the rest of the walk there. All I wanted to do was pick him up and carry him home. Instead I had to hand him to his teacher, who promised him lego and dinosaurs to make him smile, then turn my back and walk away. It broke my heart and I felt anxious all day. But of course he was fine and he had a great day, because he is brave and confident and clever, and we made him that way. I love you Rufs and I could be more proud.
If you're waving a little one off to school this week here's a big hug from me.