THE BOY IS GROWING UP

As August slips away my thoughts turn to this growing boy and the absence of his laughter filling the flat as he returns to preschool in September. For most this might not seem significant, but F has only been in someone else's care a few hours a week until now. This will be the first time that actual school day routines will be set, with early morning drop offs and lunch away from home before I wait at the school gate for his face to appear and my heart to swell.

It's a double edged sword, for all those moments I wished for time alone, the reality is I will miss his belly laugh and alter ego, Tigerman, rushing around my heels. In preparation for the start of school we booked an in-store fitting appointment at Clarks to beat the rush and checked out their school range. He seemed thrilled by the modern approach of measuring feet with the help of an iPad and his chosen character, happy to comply as nostalgic memories of my school days bubbled up and F wiggled his toes into various shoes, proclaiming he'll take them all – a kid after my own heart.

We picked a pair of sturdy black velcro shoes, ready to take on the challenges of the playground while  promoting independence and some super bright green sports trainers, as I can't resist colour on the boy, before boxing them up and heading home. Clutching the complementary 'Let's Start School memory book' under his arm he seems so grown up all of a sudden. When I asked him what he might like to be when he's older – apart from saying a human which is a good start right – the answers such as painter, music player, dinosaur hunter and architect followed, and I look at this small boy who will one day be a man and a lump catches in my throat.

I'm sure next year there will be tears as he starts 'big boy' school, and most likely they will all be mine.

Clarks are offering you the chance to win a lifetime's supply of school shoes - For a chance to win, share a photo of your child on their first day at school in their very first pair of Clarks School Shoes with the hashtag #FirstSchoolShoes 

*We received vouchers c/o Clarks for this post. All words and opinions are my own.

MY PRE-SCHOOL WOBBLE

You might remember this post detailing my first time mama nerves about F's taster day at pre-school. After months of fretting, stressing and postponing pre-school the time has come to hand him over. In fact he should have started in September but I bottled it, convincing myself that in January he/I would definitely be ready. So this week we were back to square one and heading to another taster day, this time on a different floor with older kids. After all the praise and prep for pre-school I've put in over the last six months I though this would be a doddle.

I could not have been more wrong. What should have been a calm drop off turned into an onslaught of guilt with a red faced, sobbing and slightly hysterical toddler wrapped around my leg. Him choking out the words 'mummy don't leave me, don't leave me'. That's heartbreaking stuff right there.

All the soothing tones and face strokes couldn't sway him and so I waited for a moment of distraction to make a quick and quiet exit. No screams, no hollering to be heard, I naively thought that he was fine and headed off for two precious hours of toddler free time. On my return I found him standing frozen in the playground clutching his toy dog to his face, while other children played around him, his eyes puffy and red. I rushed in all smiles and kisses, snuggling him into my hair while a quiet voice whispers to me 'I've just been standing here waiting for you, you came back'. That, right there. Heartbreak a thousand times over. How could he think I would not come back for him, that little face. So I had a pre-school wobble. Is he ready? Is this the right one? Will he be ok? I am assured ten times over that he has been fine and only got emotional towards the end of the two hours, and I know deep down that he'll love all the activities and making new friends. Oh the guilt of motherhood to come. The knowledge of responsibility; that sometimes I will have to make decisions he won't understand. Me, this 33 year old woman muddling through.

I breathe, we hold hands and head home. He still isn't sold on the idea but I'm sure come January he'll be fine and fingers crossed I will be too.

AND THEN IT WAS AUGUST

Image source Mother

August. Already.

When did that happen? Time seems to be disappearing, moving too quickly. F is rapidly approaching three and then there is pre-school. Yesterday as I battled town, dashing from shop to shop while F sat patiently for all five minutes before demanding freedom from his pushchair, I searched for the items needed for F's pre-school uniform – yes that's right, UNIFORM.

Yet while I am getting my boy ready for his next big step, I seem to have neglected myself. Am I ready? He still seems so small. I'm suddenly panicked at the moments I won't have with him, and although I always wish for my own time, it seems that time is something that no-one has. It passes whether we like it or not, whether we are ready or turn a blind eye. And just like that he'll be in school/university/traveling/married. He will have left the nest. Ok maybe I am being a bit crazy but looking back at these almost three years, and it feels like the blink of an eye. It is hard to remember all the little details I thought I would, and hell, I never imagined myself at 33 but here I am.

We arrived home disheveled and F tried on his uniform. A huge lump settled in my throat and I made a decision there and then that the husband will come with me to drop F off at pre-school, because I think I'll need someone to hold my hand.

A GOOD BOOK // Almost an Animal Alphabet

 

 

 

With F starting pre-school in a few months I am eager to brush up on his numbers, shapes and letters to help give him a head start – yes I can be quite competitive and no it's not pretty – so without drilling him on various subjects, I'm finding fun ways to incorporate learning into our everyday adventures. We stop to read door numbers in our street, sing the alphabet loud for all to hear and practice drawing shapes in the sand.

Best of all we've started reading Almost an Animal Alphabet and what fun. Who knew there were so many types of bears – black asian, spectacled, polar, sloth, brown, sun, panda, black north american – we have the letter B sussed. From Anteater to Zebra, each page is beautifully presented with delicate illustrations and a quirky sense of humour, and if you ever wondered what the differences are between an Asian and Indian Elephant then look no further. 

F's alphabet has come on leaps and bounds using this book, so in the spirit of learning – and redecorating – I've bought the Katie Viggers Map of the World print for his room... now let's see how we do with geography.

AND THEN THERE WAS PRE-SCHOOL

It seems this child of mine has been bounding effortlessly into a big boy world this last few weeks. No more nappies, seemingly dropping day time naps (although I am going to persist with this one) and then there was Pre-School.

After several months of skirting around the subject of child care, visiting an inordinate amount of nurseries and my total denial that the day would come for me to handle over my bundle, we finally made a decision. And even with forms filled in and money exchanged to secure his place in September, I lay restless at night turning to twitter to voice my anxieties. 

So it came to my complete surprise yesterday when we arrived at said pre-school to find that I was not - as I had thought - staying with him for a few hours to play, but in fact leaving him there for a two hour taster session. When I say surprise you'll find I mean shock, fear, trepidation, nausea, guilt and complete heartbreak at seeing his eyes well up when he realised that I was leaving him behind. 

Like a horse out of that starting gate I bolted, in the knowledge that any second longer my plastered smile would falter and all would be betrayed. I sat with new friends and old, sipping coffee, chatting, clock watching, waiting until I could go and collect my boy. I rushed through the door and saw him calmly sitting with a book. He clocked me instantly with those big brown eyes, relief flooding through his face, very quickly followed by tears. I scooped him up and all was well. 

After keeping schtum for most of the day about his taste of independence, he finally gave me the low down whilst sitting on the potty. 

"First I was sad and I cried. 

Then I was happy and I played with boats on water.

I painted a picture of mummy. 

There were dinosaurs in the sandbox.

Mummy there were lots of pictures on the wall. 

I saw my friends.

I did a wee in my trousers, the teacher wore gloves. That was strange.

I can go back on my own."

I smile and listen intently, asking questions about his day. Oh my baby where did you go.