I can hardly believe the title of this post, but its true. And we knew it was coming. The email. The letter. The combination of exhilarated versus devastated Facebook status updates. The cold, hard truth- The Preschooler is going to school.
Our application was a little fraught a few months back, if I’m honest. And yes, I do feel guilty about the fact we both felt The Big One’s school was not good enough for The Preschooler. That we didn’t think hard enough about where she would go to school. We simply believed our choice was right. And for the whole of infants, it was. It was open plan, 100% child led and play based learning. She thrived, as her brother would too. But having infants and junior on a separate site with different teachers, different head teacher, different policies and even different rules… it just doesn’t work for us. The Big One is, luckily, very calm and easy-going and is doing really well. The faults with the school are placed heavily on our shoulders, not hers. But The Preschooler would not, we believe, flourish there.
So he is going to a different school. And I will have an interesting school run in September!
And a more empty house.
I cannot tell you how my son has opened my eyes to life. With a start that took me to the brink, to a state of mind I don’t ever want to go back to, and on to a journey that is probably only just beginning. Yes, his sister is loved, But I was not lucky enough to have the time at home with her. The Preschooler has been a learning curve. And it has been a wrench deciding that he should even go to school. I know that I could teach him at home, but he so wants to go to school. And I want my time with The Toddler. The same time that he had.
So, dear readers, please hold my hand. I am about to have two children at school. Two sets of uniforms, two lunch boxes, two Christmas Nativities and two summer fairs. Two children on journeys that I am not invited to. Two lives waiting to be lived.