So, I got through it. My little one starting school.
I had my heart in my mouth for two weeks before Ruby went. And ever since she started I've been waiting for the 'Mummy? When will I go back to nursery?' conversation.
It hasn't happened.
I'm amaze-balled (inventing new derivatives here).
I flapped and fluttered about Ruby starting school. I thought she'd do what Ava did: happily attend school for two weeks, then ask me if we could go back to normal, where there were 'mummy days' when we went shopping together at supermarkets (oh gawd, the memories) and did chores like getting tyres changed at Kwik Fit.
Ru, I guess, spent the year before starting school feeling pretty mardy about not doing the same thing as her big sister. I'm not just guessing, actually. She used to tell me. In fact, a few times she tried putting on Ava's school uniform to go to nursery.
So when the First Day Of School finally came, and when I said: "Time to get dressed!" I wasn't met with the usual "urgh... huff..." from Ru.
Instead, the squealed: "Red jumper!" and bolted up the stairs. She wouldn't have moved quicker if there had been a bloody unicorn in the wardrobe.
I was so fluttery about Ruby being too little for school, but everything is relative. I felt fluttery because she is MY little one. Not THE little one. When we arrived, there were lots of children in the classroom. Smaller and younger.
Ru knew the classroom already, having frequented it for the previous year picking up her pig sister with me. She lorded about, and then handed out toys to little children who nwere so upset. No my little girl really is big girl, in her own world anyway.
More:Advice And Health
Suggested For You
Get top stories and blog posts emailed to me each day. Newsletters may offer personalized content or advertisements. Learn more