First week blues

Last updated: 08/09/2015 15:17 by MichelleMcDonagh to MichelleMcDonagh's Blog
Filed under: MummyBloggers
I knew it was too good to be true. After a summer of being told on an almost daily basis that he didn’t want to go to Big School, but wanted to stay at home and play with his toys instead, I was dreading the First Day. However, when the big day arrived on the last Thursday in August, he went into his classroom quite happily, having met his little buddy from playschool in the queue and spied the toys laid out on the tables.
 
It took three days for the realisation to sink in that this wasn’t playschool or a very big playdate – this Big School lark was a different kettle of fish altogether. The tears started plopping down his still-baby cheeks at about 11am on Day 4 when he decided he wanted his mommy.
 
That same mommy is a blubbering mess this week with Baba starting playschool on top of everything else. I thought it would be easier the second (and third) time round. Not so, in my case anyway. The Baba started playschool two days ago with Manchild bringing her for the first couple of days as they tend to get more upset if I leave them.
 
This morning was my first morning bringing her. I tried to follow the advice of getting in and out fast and not hanging around, but that’s hard to do when you have a wailing three-year-old clinging to your neck. Her lovely, warm teacher had to practically prise her away from me and I didn’t even manage to make it back to the car before my own tears had started. It has to be done but it’s so bloody heart-breaking when they’re upset and begging you not to leave them. (The tears are plopping onto my keyboard as I type just thinking about it even though I know her tears dried up after a few minutes).
 
Then it was over to drop The Bruiser off and all was going well until we got to the top of the queue outside the door. His lip went down, he buried his face in my legs and clung on with all his might. He didn’t want the other kids to see him crying. I took him out of the queue and had a little chat with him, telling him it was only for a short time and I would be back soon to collect him but he was having none of it. In the end I had to leave him there crying in his seat, both our hearts breaking.
 
I have such a vivid recollection of my own first days and weeks at school, the sheer panic at the thought of being left by my mother in this strange, scary environment. The funny smell, the noise, the scratchy jumper and constricting tie, the tears plopping down my cheeks, as I clung to my poor mother’s legs, begging her to take me home with her. But I also have lovely memories of my first teacher, Ms O’Donnell who was kind and gentle and took me under her wing when she saw I was having trouble settling in.
 
Those first teachers are so important, both in playschool and even more so in Junior Infants because they come into our children’s lives at a time of such major change for them. Princess Firstborn settled into school very quickly thanks in a large part to the warm, perceptive, kind teacher she had starting out.
 
The transition from playschool to big school would be a lot easier on The Bruiser if his teacher was a bit warmer and a bit less stern; if she appreciated that her little charges are really only big babies taking their first, uncertain steps into the real world.
 
Michelle McDonagh is a freelance journalist working from Blarney, Co Cork. She’s a mum of three children aged 2, 4 and 5, and a firm believer in 'good enough' parenting, bribery and the healing powers of chocolate.
 
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