I know it’s terribly clichéd, but time really does fly when you’re having fun. I can’t believe the time has come for you to head off to ‘big school’ for the first time tomorrow and I’m excited for you and totally over-emotional in equal measure!
It only feels like yesterday that you were wrapped up in my arms for the first time and your little black eyes were blinking back at me. I knew from that very moment what unconditional love meant. A love so fierce and powerful. A mother’s love.
Over the past 4 years (nearly 5!), I can honestly say you’ve been an absolute joy. We somehow totally avoided the terrible twos (and threes) and you really have been a ray of sunshine.
For nearly three years, it was just the two of us during the day when daddy was working. A little double act, we spent our time playing, crafting, baking and cuddling. We visited the park and soft play more times than I care to remember, spent hours at Pets at Home and Go Outdoors (you used to love pretending we were camping!) when the weather was inclement and we had a ball with your little buddies on numerous play dates. We read, we laughed, we sang and danced and you taught me how to be a better person and a good mother.
When Phoebs joined us 2 years ago, you amazed me with your acceptance of her and your protective big-brotherly love and I can’t thank you enough for making the transition from 1 to 2 so easy for daddy and I.
But tomorrow everything changes as you embark on a new adventure; your new adventure.
Your first day at big school.
In less than 12 hours, you’ll be joining your new classmates in your slightly oversized uniform that I’ve dutifully labelled and you’ll be starting a new chapter without me. I’m beyond excited for you as you set off on this huge independent adventure, but I’m also feeling incredibly sad, because I’ll really miss you and I know Phoebs will too.
I’m sad because tomorrow marks the end of an era; the carefree, spontaneous, unstructured chapter of our lives has come to an end.
I’m sad that you won’t need me as much as you do now.
I’m sad that I won’t know what you get up to every day; I’ll only know what you choose to tell me (which if it’s anything like your nursery days it will be “nothing”).
I’m sad that I won’t be there to hold your hand and offer reassurance when you’re feeling unsure of your new surroundings and I’m sad that I won’t be there to kiss your cuts and grazes when you fall or help you if you fall out with your friends.
But I have to learn to let you go and I know that you’ll have a ball with your new little buddies learning, playing and growing so much in every way.
I’ll try and hold back my tears as you head off into your classroom tomorrow morning (but no doubt the tears will flow as soon as I turn on my heel back to the car, if not before!) and I’ll be there with the biggest smile on my face when I come to pick you up in the afternoon.
Jack William, you are handsome, kind, charming and loving and I couldn’t be more proud of you. Thank you for being you. I have cherished every moment of our time together and I will miss you so very very much.
Dream big little man, tomorrow you will move mountains.