Starting School

Here in Australia, it’s the start of the new school year.

My little babies, my darling, precious babies, have let go of my hand and taken their first steps into school life. They began “Prep” on Monday.

They’re doing OK. They’re adjusting. I’m doing OK. I’m adjusting.

I just thank the universe that they have each other, and that we organized for them to be in the same class for this first year. They completed quite a few Prep Transition sessions last year, so they were familiar with the classrooms, the teachers and many of the other children (why didn’t they have that sort of system in place when I started school?!). We’ve also chosen a brilliant school for them, a school with just under 300 children and with a real sense of community. Parents are highly involved in school life.

The first morning was filled with a sense of “calm excitement” – you know what I mean? They dressed themselves, with a bit of help from Mum and Dad when it came to tying the laces on their black leather school shoes. They looked SO smart in their uniforms. So grown-up. I tied back their hair, careful to use different colored hairclips and ribbons so that their teacher could at least take a punt at working out which identical twin was which.

We took photo after photo, helped pack their snacks (no lunch – only a half-day) and water bottles into their school bags, chatted with proud neighbors and passers-by who could tell it was their first day, and then drove the 15 minutes or so to the school (we’re planning on moving closer to the school, so that it can be a 15-minute walk instead of a drive). I flicked on the video camera every now and then, capturing the excitement in their beautiful little faces as we wound around the streets to their school.

They took off their hats, hung up their bags, and gave us each big, brave hugs. They lined up with their classmates, standing head and shoulders above all but a couple of tall boys. A little boy next to Evie started crying, rubbing his fist into his eye to wipe away the tears. I thought for sure that would set Evie off, but she was OK. She just gripped Bella’s hand even tighter.

Parents were allowed to go in for a little while, to make sure their little ones settled in OK. We went in, being the overanxious parents that we are, and were relieved to see the girls start tackling puzzles and looking around the room confidently, taking it all in.

Darren and I waved goodbye and headed towards the door, watching them for a little while longer before we stepped outside. Tears pricked at my eyes as I felt the enormity of the moment. I put on my sunglasses and let the slow tears fall. This is it. They really are at school. We went and had coffee at a nearby park, looking at our photos and going through every detail of the morning – and hoping that our girls were doing OK. Thank goodness Darren was there with me for that first morning. (And, yup, the girls were OK!) I also felt a tiny thrill at the thought of the “freedom” unfolding before me, with all those school hours to fill (hmm, where would I start?)!

I feel privileged that I’m able to be here for the girls after school hours, so that they have a “soft place to fall” after the extroversion of each busy day at school. And I’m SO looking forward to watching them continue to blossom and grow. But I also have the bonus of being able to start spending time on projects that allow me to spread my wings. Aren’t I just one lucky mama?

So, this is it. Life as we know it has changed. Yes, yes, I know it keeps changing, and I know we were all ready for it, but I think it’s OK to grieve – just a little – for the pre-school life that I enjoyed so much with my little girls (she says, wiping away another tear).

You could say it was a day of mixed emotions… Could I have a hanky, please?

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