Charlotte at Big School!

Today my little girl started Kindy.  Charlotte’s been keen for ages to go to “really big school” and her enthusiasm lasted all the way up until yesterday when her doubts crept in and she said she didn’t want to go to school, but she knew she had to and she didn’t want to talk about it.  Apparently talking about it wouldn’t make her feel better, she just had to do it when the time came. 

At dinner she turned down her favourite, chicken tortillas, because she didn’t feel well.  Ten minutes after that and she announced she was going to “have a little nap”.  It wasn’t even seven and when I went to check on her she was passed out naked under her covers.

Turns out that it wasn’t just school nerves after all.  At 11pm she woke with a raging fever and I spent the next hour consoling her with a cool bath, a cup of lemonade and some Panadol.  For once we didn’t want Daddy, only Mama.  This morning she was hot again but I was determined she wasn’t going to miss out on her first day so I loaded her up with Panadol again, dressed her in her new uniform and shoes, did her hair and took her off to school.  By the time we left the house, the excitement was back.

On Friday when we went uniform shopping Madam was monumentally disappointed with the colour options available.  Not a skerrick of pink or purple.  The dresses were also too scratchy and “just awful”.  I promised they would be better after I washed them but she still insisted that she wanted to wear her own clothes to school.  Eventually I made a deal with her – she will wear the uniform for two weeks and if she still wants to wear her own clothes after that, we’ll give it a go*.

But today when we finally started school we discovered that Charlotte loves her new school dresses now that I’ve washed them and they’re not scratchy.  She loves her “pretty” little black school shoes that she picked out herself.  She loves choosing her lunch for school and she loves her backpack and her brand new hat with the slide fastener.  She loves being a big girl at big school.

I was surprised that I didn’t feel any of that weepy “oh my baby is growing up” stuff.  I didn’t cry either.  I was just excited by proxy and proud that she was taking this next step in her life with so much enthusiasm and determination.  As we were leaving I snapped photos of her in her uniform – just like every mother has since the invention of the hand-held instamatic.  Unlike the ramrod-straight-with-pride photos of yore Madam vogued in the driveway, striking poses at random.  

Then she started ripping the petals off the roses and showering her Daddy and brother with them.

 

Daddy was shocked at her behaviour;

James was delighted;

She was quiet on the way and we talked about what it was like when she was born, how little she was then and how it seems like only yesterday to us.  Even if she thinks she’s growing up slowly, for us, those years are whipping by and she’s shooting up like a weed.  I told her that a lot of magic happens when a little girl is born, but it doesn’t all happen at once.  And I told her she wouldn’t understand what I meant until she had a little girl of her own.

“Yes,” Madam told me, “And then I can tell her how she was born.”

Once we reached the school all the children and parents congregated in the Kindy area.  Some of the kids were obviously having a hard time of it** and in some cases it was the parents who were struggling.  One little girl was trying to make it to the front to sit with the other kids but her mother wouldn’t let go of her shoulders.  When her name was finally called she literally had to twist her way out of her mother’s clutch to make it down to the carpet with the rest of the kids.

The children’s names were called as they were assigned to their classes and then the Mums and Dads were invited to tea and tissues in the conference room.  When Charlotte had confessed her fears to me about going to school I’d promised that I would stay with her for as long as she wanted me to – all day if necessary.  So at this point she turned to me and I eyed her meaningfully.

“I think you can go and have some tea and tissues Mama.  I’m fine,” she smiled

And like that I let go and walked away.  I left her sitting cross-legged on the floor with the other children, dazzled and mesmerised by her teacher.  How quickly they grow.

*  Is it wrong to rely on the need to conform socially in order to win battles with your kids?

**  You can definitely tell the difference between the ones who have been to day-care and the ones who have been at home with Mum or Dad!