Last Days of School

My two little ones are asleep and I am savoring a cup of tea after running errands and grocery shopping, before hanging out the third load of laundry. There's three more days left of Prep and I am feeling a little sentimental. Only three more days, and my big boy has finished his first year of school. His first year away from me, given that he never attended childcare. On top of which, he turns six this week. Oh my. 

Time seems to speed up when you have children, because they are like yardsticks for time. How quickly they grow. How different he seems from the little boy who first put on that brand new uniform, to child dressed in the paint and play marked uniform he wears now.

I'm so proud of my boy. He has always been confident and social, and so accepting of anyone who is 'different'. 

And his Mona Lisa is pretty awesome too.

One more sleep

'Construction Zone' Kids Exhibition at Ipswich Art Gallery

Exploring in Ipswich with Cohen and Emerson

The days have been wearing away as days do, until now there is only one sleep before my first born starts school. Cohen is filled with joy. Each new artifact that signifies school has been examined, carried around, shown to visitors and carefully practiced with - from water bottles to lunch boxes, book pack to uniform. It is all new and exciting. Having myself been a stay at home Mother since his birth, he has never attended child care or kindy, and I have had the pleasure, joy and frustration of having my dear boy with me these past five years. I believe it was the right decision for all of us. He is an outgoing, social, chatty, friendly five year old and he is so ready for school. He is full of curiosity and questions, loves the company of other children, loves books, craft and sport. (He's also a little chatterbox, and he is going to have to learn about quiet time, as it is one lesson he has as yet refused to learn!)

I am going to miss the quiet rhythm and freedom of our days until now, which shall be replaced by the routines of school. I thought I would manage the first day of school without tears, but now I'm not so sure. My, how quickly they grow.

On to a new phase of parenthood.
New challenges and joys.
Wish me luck and hand me a tissue...

42/52

"A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013." Che and Fidel.

Cohen: Behind the fairy floss, beneath Dada's sunglasses and hat, my darling boy  

Emerson: Exploring at every opportunity, with that serious little face of hers

What a jolt those numbers give me. 42/52. My goodness. How true that old saying, 'the days are long but the years are short.' And so it has felt lately. 

Yesterday, we had Cohen's first school interview, for Prep. Cohen explored the classroom, while Dave and I answered the teachers questions. She was quite surprised when we explained that Cohen has never been in child care and hadn't gone to Pre-Prep, having been at home with me until this point. It seemed assumed that each child going to Prep would have been to child care and Pre-Prep, though neither is compulsory. (Prep is compulsory in some states I believe, but not Queensland. We could wait until grade one to enroll Cohen, but I do think he is ready for school now.) She returned to the question on the form later to inquire, 'Not even a family day care?' in a tone of disbelief. Is it so uncommon these days to raise a child at home?

I felt as though she thought we had disadvantaged Cohen in some way, which left me feeling disappointed. I suppressed my urge to justify my decisions. I know his days are full of friends, books, craft, activities, playgroup, library trips, soccer - as any four year old's are. However, he will most likely be included in a program at the end of the year where he will attend the morning session of Prep once a week for three weeks. This way he can get used to the requirements of school and they can 'asses' him. The program is generally offered to fifteen children each year, so surely Cohen isn't such an odd one out?

It's funny how something can seem completely normal to you in one environment, and so foreign in another.