2 October 2012
The induction process is finally over, both my children are now full time schoolboys.
This is a Big Deal. I've been waiting for this day for AGES. Yes, of course I love spending time with my children, blah blah blah, but having almost six whole hours a day to myself - it's the stuff of dreams. I've been a stay at home mum for five years, my children are amazing, but by crikey they wind me up sometimes.
Presley and Cash are so ready for school, they're enjoying it too. They're socialising, making friends, playing and learning. It's all good.
I feel a little odd, discombobulated. It's not just that I miss them or that they're growing up at an alarming rate, but I feel a complete loss of control.
Someone else is teaching them stuff all day. Four year old Cash told me last week that panda bears live in China and eat bamboo. I wanted to be the one to tell them all about pandas.
I know I have to let them go at some point, but I can no longer control what happens to them between 8.45 and 3pm and I don't like it. What if they're bullied? What if they get upset? What if another child teaches them to swear? What if another child tells them about Father Christmas?
It's not all bad. The teachers and lunch time supervisors have succeeded in encouraging them to eat their crusts - something we couldn't do. Not all the Other Mothers are happy about this. Following last week's Crustgate my friend now cuts her son's crusts off so he isn't forced to eat them. I asked my children whether they are made to eat their crusts. 'No', said Cash, 'I eat them before Mrs B_ asks me'. I'm fine with that.
What does concern me is that my boys will one day join the swaggering gangs from the upper school who hang out at the local parade of shops, intimidating other shoppers, smoking and dropping litter. How do I prevent that? Perhaps I should just take it one day at a time. Roll on 3pm.