|Still half asleep and watching big sis make their sandwiches for school|
I walked in the house, threw my keys on the side and collapsed on the sofa in a heap of tears, snot and sobbing this morning. The cats were staring at me with such confused expressions as if to say ‘but you’ve been waiting for this peace and quiet all summer’. The house seems so empty right now and the cats are no doubt right. I’ve spent the last six weeks wishing this day would come quicker and I now feel guilty having just handed over my son to his teacher. It’s his first day at Primary School, no longer a toddler but a big Reception class boy all smart and styled in his spotless uniform.
The other eight children in his class all went into school without any commotion but my little man wanted to walk in with his big sister. Even though they are in the same classroom she goes in through a different door into the Key Stage 1 cloakroom. She had run off to be with her friends the moment we entered the playground (not even a kiss for mummy). The teacher explained to little man that he would see his sister in the classroom but he needed to go in without her. He had made his mind up at this point that he just wouldn’t go into school at all.
The teacher within me felt that the staff could have perhaps helped me a little more as I explained it would be easier for them to just take him off me, let me give him a quick kiss then go. This is what we did for the last two years with little miss and it worked well because I wasn’t hanging around like a sobbing wreck each morning. The teacher mentioned casually to a student member of staff that ‘perhaps that little man might need a hand’ but didn’t actually say what to do. They all then walked into the school leaving hubby and I outside with an over emotional four year old clinging on to my shoulders for dear life. We didn’t know what to do, the school door was locked so we couldn’t just follow on in, there were parents just staring at us and this student was just stood there. We felt like total plums to be honest.
The headmistress was having a chin wag with the regular PTA type mums and looked over at us several times before coming over. Because the doors were locked she had to lead us through the kitchens and we finally encouraged him to walk and hold my hand rather than being carried. As we approached the main door into the school, she broke our hands away from each other and shut the door on us quickly. It took me by surprise as much as little man, he hadn’t given me a kiss and I could see and hear him screaming as he realised he was in school and that was it now. I soon scarpered out of the kitchen but couldn’t help feel bad because I knew at this point he just wanted that kiss then he would be ok. He has done the same thing at nursery and the childminder for the last two years. He always clings and cries but then as soon as I hand him over, he snatches a quick kiss off me before being ok. One day I forgot to do this at nursery and they commented how he didn’t seem to function properly all day. He often shouts ‘start at the beginning’ until his mind is at a point where he can function again. I hope he manages to find that point today and settle himself down easily.
At least my daughter didn’t seem phased about entering year two and we had no tantrums from her. My eldest son was the same, he turned fifteen yesterday and started in year ten today. He had left for school before anyone else was up in the house, obviously very keen. I am a proud mummy today but as I look around this somewhat empty house now, I feel sad and alone.*
*As I typed this baby peanut decided to have a good old wriggle….I’m not alone really.