|Phone pic, Main Rd Diepriver|
I'm in such awe at how well she embraces change.
This 'big school' thing has awakened stuff in me though. Of course. Concerned thoughts about a future in which, invariably, we'll face a time when she doesn't think I'm such a fun person to hang out with. A time when she'll have secrets, have fears that she'll not share, a time when she'll not laugh at my silly jokes but roll her eyes and groan.
I've found myself, somewhat pathetically I admit, feeling triumphant when I have made her laugh this week. Feeling grateful for the big hugs I've gotten, my heart singing when she jumped into my arms after that first day of school and whispered 'I love you Mum'.
Each moment from the womb that imaginary umbilical cord stretches just a little further, but last week I felt its tug so sharply.
With Sunday I had almost the opposite experience.
The pre-school we'd signed her up for last year turned out to be a total dud. Disengaged staff, dirty and broken toys, cat poo in the sand pit (loads of cat poo at that). At first I felt like a fool, why had I not seen the obvious flaws when I'd visited last year? Then I felt like a snob, we were so spoiled by her previous, magnificent, play school that maybe my standards were too high? Then I felt angry - I've visited pre-schools in townships with almost no equipment, where the smell of cleaning detergent is so strong it'll make your eyes water - clean, happy schools run by underpaid people determined to give every child the best experience they can - there is NO excuse for bad hygiene in schools for little people.
So we left, Sunday and I, and went out for breakfast to regroup.
And as we chatted at the table, that umbilical cord shrunk a little. I had been about to reel my youngest out a bit, to send her off a little further into the world without me. Now she'll be home for a while as we come up with another plan, home alone with me.
That 2013 To Do list will have to simmer on the back burner for a little longer. I'll get there, I'll get there.