starting school

It’s that time. We are coming up to the time of year where everyone of a certain age will have their every social media platform flooded with pictures of children in brand new shiny, soon-to-be-ruined uniforms, shiny, soon-to-be scuffed/lost shoes, being forced to smile for a first day of school picture.

Last year I had a chuckle at the two people on my feed who chose to break the mould-my 23 year old cousin, who posted a picture of Sloth from the Goonies, with the caption ‘this is what I see when you all post pictures of your so called cute kids on their first day of school. Stop already,’ and my friend, who posted a picture of herself jumping up and down and high fiving the air, while her child cried in the background. Both were a humorous break!

I won’t be posting one, not because I feel strongly about them one way or the other, but because I don’t actually use my own social media very often-I’m mainly a bloody antisocial misery! I also seem to be the only person who is glad that their child is going to school. And it might not be for the reasons you think.

Firstly, he has made it very easy for me to look forward to him going. He has been excited about it for months, and lately has been asking to go to nursery more than his regular two days. He is so bored and over being at home with me and the assassin child. Admittedly, if he was terrified and anxious about going, this post would probably have a totally different tone, with me scouring the world for all cotton wool supplies to wrap him up with for ever, and looking to totally re-evaluate my future so I could homeschool him.

I can’t wait for the better balance I am 98% certain will make our fraught house a slightly more harmonious place to be, when I get to spend more time with both children on their own. Tensions between the two children and constant conflict over satisfying everyone’s needs (including the ‘third child’ husband,) has left me feeling kind of destroyed recently. Every day has felt like a battle, and one I haven’t had a chance of winning, or even neutralising.

Since the smallest was born, when the eldest was 14 months old, I’ve never managed to find anywhere near a balance of spending time with both of them individually-something I often ruminate may have inadvertently damaged my relationship with both of them. Last week, I had my first day on my own with the eldest, that I’ve had since his brother was born. That’s 3 and a half years ago. It was an AMAZING day. One of the best parenting days I’ve had in  such a long time.

When he is at school, I’ll have time with the smallest on his own, and during school holidays, when the smallest is at nursery, I’ll have the eldest on his own. They are both looking forward to this time like you wouldn’t believe-and so am I. I feel like I can finally get to know them properly, and enjoy each day, instead of dragging myself through it, dodging my ever boiling temper, and constant fights for assassin supremacy.

During a park meetup last week, with some of the parent/children who will be in the eldest’s new class, all of the parents were throwing out the classic phrases like ‘hasn’t the time gone quick?’ ‘I can’t believe we are at this stage already!’ Half of me wondered whether these are just small talk phrases, that nobody actually believes, and the other half of me wondered if I actually just feel time differently to everybody else-because I’ve felt every second of the last 4 and a half years. Then I settled on the fact that people only feel like it’s gone quickly because they can’t remember every second of it- your brain can’t possibly do that, so you just remember the abridged version, which makes it feel like there’s been much less time than there has been. I have been parenting (mainly solo, apart from occasional full weekends,) for about 1632 days. And as much as I’ve marvelled over the milestones, and enjoyed some of it, it certainly doesn’t feel like it’s flown by. At all.

I’m also feeling quite selfish at the moment. Maybe it didn’t help that until 2 weeks before I became a mum, I had spent 10 years in a job where I selflessly put other people’s needs before mine, mostly working more hours than I ever got paid for, to the detriment of my social life and anything I wanted to do for myself. I went straight from that, into a job with a very similar job description, which was 10 times harder, and completely unpaid (although largely more rewarding and love filled.) I just want to enjoy more time to myself now, and do something for me. I can’t wait for this, actually.

So yes, he’s my oldest baby, and I’ll miss his careful, considered, deep thinking (if somewhat a little moany) presence in my life. But, there are a lot of feelings that come along with having both children at home, that I’d rather not be feeling, given the choice, and that is why I’m looking forward to the new balance that his going to school will bring. I’ll more than likely send him off with a lump in my throat, and totally forget to take a picture of him, because I’m just a bit shit like that…!