From Baby to Batman
I still think that my middle child has just started montessori, yet the other day while I was waiting for him to come back from his first ever school tour on his first ever school bus, I realised how close the countdown to "Big School" really was.
He's just a little guy, he still says schweep instead of sleep and crap instead of clap. He doesn't know anyone in what will be his new class, what if he's lonely? Or what if he's too shy to ask to go to the toilet and has an accident? What if all the other kids know each other and nobody talks to him? What if he doesn't understand that he has to look after his own lunch and if he doesn't eat it, he'll be really hungry by the time I come for him because it's a much longer day at big school than montessori. What if he doesn't like it?
I know he'll most likely be fine and figure it all out as he goes, but I'm not ready for him to go. I'm not ready to let go of that precious hour or so after I pick him up, while his baby brother naps and before his big sister comes home from school. We have chats and he tells me his stories like the one about his dinosaur friend that lives in a nearby town who poops eggs when she flies. I'm going to miss our cuddles on the couch when we read his books and he asks "but why?" about four hundred times.
It's hard to let go. Sometimes I wish they could stay babies forever.
Sometimes.
He's just a little guy, he still says schweep instead of sleep and crap instead of clap. He doesn't know anyone in what will be his new class, what if he's lonely? Or what if he's too shy to ask to go to the toilet and has an accident? What if all the other kids know each other and nobody talks to him? What if he doesn't understand that he has to look after his own lunch and if he doesn't eat it, he'll be really hungry by the time I come for him because it's a much longer day at big school than montessori. What if he doesn't like it?
I know he'll most likely be fine and figure it all out as he goes, but I'm not ready for him to go. I'm not ready to let go of that precious hour or so after I pick him up, while his baby brother naps and before his big sister comes home from school. We have chats and he tells me his stories like the one about his dinosaur friend that lives in a nearby town who poops eggs when she flies. I'm going to miss our cuddles on the couch when we read his books and he asks "but why?" about four hundred times.
It's hard to let go. Sometimes I wish they could stay babies forever.
Sometimes.
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