Tears and tummy aches
Part of me wanted to hang on to her until she reached legal school age and they pulled her away from me and forced her into a school. The other part of me (occasionally known as the sensible part) knew that by almost 3, she would need more interaction, learning skills and activities than I could probably give her. More so now that she has a little sister too.
The iron was out the night before school so her uniform was pressed and neat. A bit big, but beautiful nonetheless.
The morning of the first day, my tummy was in turmoil. You’d have thought it was me going to school not her ;-) The other reason for the turmoil was ‘what would I wear?’ I had a wardrobe crisis that took up most of the time I had given myself but I got there in the end (I even wore a pair of low heels – catch me huh?!). I could hardly eat any breakfast and just about managed a cup of tea. She, on the other hand, scoffed her breakfast and asked for more orange juice. I considered the latter may have been a bad idea as she’d not used school toilets before – eeekkk!
Off we went about 15 minutes too early so we stood around outside the school with other, seasoned, parents and a few more newbies. The bell went, the gate was opened and off we went. I headed in slightly the wrong direction and then turned around, at which point it seemed some other parents had spotted a ‘nursery girl’ and were following me! Oops. We had a laugh about it and I was pleased to say the other mummy also had a tummy knot of nerves so I didn’t feel so daft :)
In to the classroom we arrived, hats and coats on the peg, wellies and plimsoles in the appropriate slot underneath and names found. We settled her down at the plasticine and gave her a kiss goodbye. As we walked out and gazed into the classroom, she wasn’t looking for us at all but had rolled her plasticine and was engaged in a deep conversation with another little girl and playing with the plasticine cutters.
It was a long day as her first day was a full one. I stared at Facebook on and off and wandered around the house. Hubby did some writing and baby did...well, what she normally does but without her sister confiscating the occasional toy.
Picking up time came near and we headed off, early again. Well, we didn’t want to be late to collect her as the road could be blocked/shut/diverted/collapsed into an unknown mine shaft, etc. We sat in the car outside the school for 20 minutes letting baby have a sleep before we got out and went to the gate, 5 minutes before school ended, trying to look relaxed.
As we almost bounded up to the classroom, she was delighted to see us and I could hear her shout “my mummy and daddy”. She sat quietly at her desk waiting for her name to be called by the teacher, who told us what a good day she'd had and what she had done. She had painted us two lovely A3 pictures and was very proud of herself. Apparently she has a friend called Kimmy (no-one in the class by that name so I’m not sure if they are invisible or she got the name wrong) and dinosaurs roar she told me quite categorically.
She had lunch at school but didn’t eat the chicken because it was ‘chewy’ (this is the latest phrase for anything she doesn’t want and ‘chewy’ things range from toast through to orange juice). It was turkey by the way, but she did eat the pudding which was ginger cake. Suffice to say she was starving when we got in.
Day one over. She wants to go back again please. Yes!!