Starting school is hard ( for mum)…
So today my little micRo man pulled on his clean shirt, shiny shoes, oversized backpack and walked into “ big school “ for the first time in what will now be a 13 year odyssey ahead of him… he had slight nerves, only visible to those that know him as it kept him quieter than his usual exuberant human megaphone self… a new building, a sea of new faces, the unknown. Where is the toilet? What are the rules? but mostly he was excited…. a whole world of opportunity. New friends to play with, new toys, new activities and a break away from his well meaning but demanding little sisters… he knew it was big deal… but his little four year old self has no idea how big…
And that’s because the truth is… this is bigger for me!
So while my hubby took great delight in slamming me and poking fun at my overwhelming nerves, mumma guilt and usual first day jitters I had to ask myself, why do I feel like this? Why did my bottom lip quiver just a little when he reassured me he was fine and I could go? And thats when it hit me…
This is the start of him not needing me. The start of him being too embarrassed for a cuddle and kiss from his dithering old mum, the start of him only calling my name to ask for food, ask for money, to borrow the car keys… no longer will my name be the name he hollers because he wants a friend and I am his most favourite person to play with from today onwards I am now just mum. Not best friend, superwoman, magician and centre of his universe. As of today I am now the buyer of food and provider of clothes. And frankly. That sucks.
For four years and eleven months I have been there. For every single moment. I have been the person who sees him more for his every waking hour than any other soul on this planet… I am the person who knows him better than he knows himself… as of today that changes.
As of today his teacher will see him for more of his awake hours than I will. And I have to have blind faith that she will love him even a fraction of what I do…
That she will notice all the amazing things about him that fill every single one of my days with meaning… and frankly, that’s a lot to ask of anyone… because when it comes to her cubs, this mumma bear has a LOT of pride, love and overwhelming emotion…
So to stand there and wave goodbye. To be told “you can go now mum” is like standing on the edge of a cliff and jumping. Like having your heart ripped from your chest while it’s still beating, Jumping away from this tiny little baby who rocked my world so uncontrollably just a few short years ago that is am still shell shocked and trying to recover and adapt… jumping into the next stage of the unknown. It’s like entering a battlefield, expected to fight the army after you’ve only just stepped off the last battle arena… and to be asked to do that with a smile on your face, so that your little miracle doesn’t see your heart shattering into a thousand tiny little pieces… or so that your partner, who doesn’t necessarily experience the full spectrum of emotions that colour your every day, doesn’t go to town on ridiculing and teasing you over your slightly quivering lip… well, that my friends is the equivalent to an emotional boxing match with Muhammad Ali…
But it doesn’t stop there…
Just when you think your banged up, bruised and beaten heart can’t possibly take another hit you get bowled over with the surge of pride. The tidal wave of excitement… because no matter what you’re grieving, you are also filled to overflowing with excitement. With hope. Today, today marks the first step in your little person’s journey to independence. Today they are on their way to a lifetime of endless possibility. They are forging their very first steps in their own individual journey and to know the possibilities for them are limitless is simply too much to fathom. They need this. This is great. This is exciting and this is the road to their amazing future. Of course I’m happy for him. So happy and so excited I could literally just cry. Of course though, if I do I will be picked on, laughed at, torn apart…
So instead, my bottom lip quivers…
But, as Tim Shaw, the Demtel man, once said “but wait folks; there’s more” because fighting that inner circus of emotion isn’t enough… we must remember to throw in the final insult… the piece de resistance, the bane of my every day. The mumma guilt. Have I done enough for him? Is he really ready? Should I have held him back? Will he make friends? Am I doing right? And on and on the voice in my head yells at me. Abuses me. Questions me…
So when people ask how did day one go? For him, it went “ok” ( in his own words) for me? It was like running a marathon with my shoe laces tied together.
And the next time you see a parent, standing with a quivering lower lip on day one of school, waving goodbye and walking away… just remember there may be a heck of a lot more going on under the surface than what that little tremble gives away…
Happy school year kiddos and huge hugs to all of us out there just barely holding it together!
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