School Drop Off Blues

My youngest started school last week and I was reminded of how quickly time flies,standing at the school gates the Abba song ‘Slipping through my fingers’ running through my head as tears rolled down my face.

Three days later I was crying again but this time because I had discovered he was only doing half days for two fucking weeks!

And that my friends is parenting in a nutshell. A dash over sentimental bullshit mixed with a dollop of anger at the world forcing you to act like a grown up.

One minute you’re sobbing into tiggy-taggy blanky because your baby is leaving you, the next you’re sobbing into a giant cuddly Chewbacca* because you can’t get rid of them for long enough.

*Soft toys in our house all contain 30% children’s dribble and 30% Mummy’s tears.

Somewhere in between these two emotional extremes must exist a middle point when, as a parent, your emotions are evenly balanced and you neither miss your children nor want them to be as far away as humanly possible. I think it probably happens at night when I’m in bed asleep.

It’s hardly surprising that these emotional extremes are reflected back at us through our children when they start school. The reception classroom is divided into two separate camps – in the red corner the children that cling and in the blue corner the children who couldn’t care less.

Both are equally emotionally draining.

Parents of clingers have to see have sobbing children surgically removed from their legs whilst others are frantically filling in a Hare Psychopathy checklist panicking about emotional detachment.

Basically the first few weeks at school are hard work for both parents and children (HUGE respect to all the hardworking Reception teachers and support assistants). If, like me, you’re a couple of weeks in and still find yourself having the occasional cry at the school gates humming Abba songs don’t panic. It’s completely normal. Probably.

Altogether now:

Like a Sup-per-per Troup-per-per
Lights are gonna find me…

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2 thoughts on “School Drop Off Blues

  1. If you fancy another cry look for ‘Outgrown’, a poem by Penelope Shuttle.

    Mine were in school one day, then daughter was home sick, then both on a half day for dentist, followed by curriculum meetings. So two weeks in and I’ve had just one full, uninterrupted day!

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