That’s it then. I’ve lost my boys for good. School has started and both of my babies are there now. As of this week, Master 4, nearly will start Kindy and Master 7 is in Year 2. School!
They are no longer mine, now they are ‘of the world.’ And I’m expecting the village to step up. I have always expected the village to help raise my children, from day care, to helpful adults at the park, I am all about globalisation of parenting.
But, it’s been a rough week in our house and both the Masters have been quite stressed in their own way. Which has added to the parental units stress levels. It’s been very hard to be calm and still assertive with tears, fears, yelling and frustration leaking out of the two Masters.
Mind you, by the time that you are reading this post, the first days will be over and done with. Finished, successfully navigated, completed etc.
I may or not have successfully gotten lunches packed and boys to the right place on time, I don’t know, it hasn’t happened yet.
I may or may not have cried. They may or may not have cried. They may or may not have been wearing complete uniforms, they may or may not have packed everything that they need.
Who knows what will happen?
And that is the cause of all the stress.
Both my boys react to these situations like I do – anxious, over thinking, concerned about the unknown. That is how we do it in our house.
And that is the hardest bit of this week, thus far, that they are worried about the big unknown, and I can do little to nothing to fix it for them. All the reassurance in the world is doing nothing to allay their fears. They have to go through it, by themselves really, and in their own way, and come out the other side. They will be stronger for this experience, and I will walk through the fire with them, but there is no avoiding it. They must do this on their own. Navigate the school yard, listen to the new teacher and their rules, meet new kids, discover their lunch box.
Until now, I have been the fixer of problems, solver of puzzles, repairer of ouches and the reassurance that they need. Now, I am not enough.
And this is great, and sad, but great.
And this is when they are no longer just mine or ours. But they are ‘of the world.’ Shaped by others, scratched and dented by others, not just influenced by me and dear hubby.
I hope that we have done enough and that we are still enough for what lies ahead.
And I know that they will be ok, and I look forward to the point in their first day when they realise it too.