All three children are starting at a new school tomorrow. Since moving house nearly three weeks ago, I have been able to unpack almost all the boxes (ok, maybe half) and get most of our 'stuff' (which we have too much of, as articulated in my previous post Six Days and Counting) into some semblance of order. We have had quiet days at home and have explored our new area. We've even learned to live with smaller numbers on our outdoor thermometer (so far).
But tomorrow is the day. The day that the usual routine begins again; the lunches, the pressed uniforms, the homework. The routine that includes motivating sleepy children and finding the shoes that always seem to take themselves off for a game of hide and seek right before leaving for school.
I can't say I'm not ready. Like most carers, I long for a computer that's not required for the latest Minecraft mod download. I long to have a phone that doesn't run out of battery due to the extended sessions of Geometry Dash. I long to finish a task before hearing a wailing 'MU-UM, where are you?'. To be able to buy a coffee without it costing me $30 in hot chocolates and bakery goodies.
Even though the prospect of kids going back to school renders me a dancing orang-utan, there's a small (ok, a bit bigger than 'small') part of me that is really nervous for them. New teachers, unfamiliar class times, unfamiliar faces, awkward conversations. Actually, I think I'm more nervous than all three put together. Will they make friends? Will they make good friends? Will they feel a little lost? Will they get lost? Will they be cold? (A never-ending obsession of mine since move day, as I wrote in a previous post The Yeti.)
I know only they can answer those questions as this is something they need to do on their own. Despite my desire to go ahead of them, and perform a 'security sweep', investigating the unknowns and reporting back in time for the first bell, my greater desire is for them to learn how to make new friends, how to find answers to things unknown and how to negotiate new situations. And the only way to do that is by letting them go through the process on their own (excuse me while I grab the tissues).
So I will farewell them tomorrow morning, and try not to watch the clock while they're gone. I will pray for their day and repeat my husband's adage to them 'to have a good friend, you need to be a good friend' as they head off to their first class. Knowing that the whole experience will be another link in the armour of their character and a step toward them growing into the resilient young people we always hoped they would be.
Pass another tissue, please?....
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