It’s only 12.23 [not that I’m watching the clock or anything] and it feels so odd. So quiet. So empty. So different. So I could go on. Last night the boys uploaded their very first YouTube toy review that they’d done themselves with no direction from me – Foodie Roos – but this morning…
This morning, it went a little something like this. I dropped off Jensen to walk into school with his Dad’s lunchbox because somehow last night in the rainy confusion of not just getting ourselves home but also two friends who were coming over to play, he left it at school. We’re not sure whether it was on the field or in his classroom, but it wasn’t there last night when it came to washing up time. Anyhow, lost property hadn’t found it yet so fingers crossed for this evening.
Then we bounced up the field to Lyoto’s classroom, popped him in as he wandered in like he was ninety years old, to then be chased back down the field by a much more spritely version of himself as he realised he’d gone into class holding Hero’s lunchbox [lunchbox drama is a thing now].
THEN…. I dropped Hero off.
For a FULL DAY.
After nearly crying on my way in, I nearly cried on my way out. I could hear the Jurassic Park music playing in my head [this is my go-to sad music at the minute] as I wandered out, worrying constantly about him as he is SO quiet. Not only is he so quiet – and I mean at school, not at home; at home he is the foghorn of the family, the one I’d want on a boat with me in misty weather – but he’s, and I cringe when I write this, RESILIENT.
He will SUCK it UP. He doesn’t complain, whine, tell, ANYTHING. He is hardcore. Even if he’s terrified, he remains stoic. And I know that’s unusual for a five year old, but still. So I worry. He’s also much quicker than my other two at maths for his age and so I’m also filled with a mean-feeling kind of conflict in my heart over him having a jolly good time with his friends whilst he’s so little and whilst the government haven’t stepped in and ruined that year of school yet – and wanting him to crack on and not stop his amazing progress or hinder his potential by being so quiet and potentially overlooked.
Anyhow, this morning I got his Tapestry information [the computer programme that lets the school upload observations of learning complete with photographs] so I feel a little bit happier that I can see his expression doing tasks at school and see how he’s doing.
I’ve got the hours of 9.30-3 to myself to work everyday now. I feel so odd. It’s the day everyone says they’re waiting for – the day they can get on and do things in the house – but I’m just so sad! How do I cope?