How different with the fourth! For the oldest, we’d had practise runs in the park with a lunch box to make sure he could manage the Gladwrap, having come straight from a crèche which provided hot lunch. (Those were the halcyon days for the mother who works!) The build up was huge with everyone asking if he was looking forward to school and counting down the sleeps. No wonder he was a nervous wreck when the day arrived. Never the less, emotions barely under control, he braved the day and survived.
This was in marked contrast to last week with the last one, who really, could not care less. It fact, had she thought of it, I’m sure she would have given me the W.E. M. (What Ever Mother) fingers. As she pushed past the kid crying in the doorway to her classroom, I didn’t even get a cursory glance. ‘Baby!’ I called, ‘How about a kiss goodbye?’ I got the ‘if I must’ look and quick peck before she was off.
Also in contrast to the one who’s just started high school in her Shabby Chic uniform, I did manage to fly into Target and grab her one new school dress. There was only one size 4 left, after that it was size 16 – typical! But for $12 on special, I thought for day one of the next 13 years, I could probably stretch to that.
It did get me thinking though, how much anxiety kids take on from us. As I recognised the angst –ridden look on the faces of so many parents at the first day drop off, and how that was me a mere 12 years ago, no wonder our poor son was nervous. I don’t know about you, but I think I was so caught up in my own worries about how he'd get on that I was completely unaware of the connection.
