My son started school yesterday and came out at 3.15 saying “It was brilliant Mum!”
Surely what every parent wants to hear. I was so relieved.
But all week I have been feeling desperately sad – I feel bereft. Paradoxically, of course, I am also enjoying some time to get things done without juggling the needs of my bossy and exuberant four year old. It has been a shock to find myself reacting so strongly to this expected change, which we have been looking forward to, and so excited about.
I have been on my own for much of this week, with my father away on holiday, and was delighted yesterday, when my sister called early in the morning to wish us luck, and then visited last night, to see how he got on at school.
Starting school is a rite of passage, and these are the times where I still miss my Mum keenly, and wish I had her to tell me to buck my ideas up and get on with it.
Instead I am giving myself a metaphorical hug and acknowledging that Sam’s babyhood, and my experience of that wonderful part of motherhood is over, and we have new adventures to look forward to now.