On day one, I was called to collect a tearful, overwhelmed Tiny at lunchtime.When I arrived, the smile on his little tear-stained face was one of such relief that I burst into tears. I carried my tired little five-year-old up the hill and home, cradling him like a baby and whispering consolations into his ears. He told me he’d had a good morning but that when he thought of me, he got sad. We cried, a lot.
We also talked, a lot, about how he was missing his kindy friends, and about how it was okay to feel overwhelmed and tired and nervous because it was all so new and a bit scary and a bit exciting and a bit woah, and he said he was looking forward to going back again. Phew.
For the rest of last week, and most of this, he was full of beans and excited about everything to do with school. He was keen to do his homework (although he is very much like his engineer-daddy, and is more interested in numbers than letters) and shared little parts of his day.
I spoke to one of his teachers and they said he was making lots of friends (no surprises there; Tiny is a social wee bean), but gets a little stressed when presented with a new task. They are reminding him to ask for help instead of panicking and getting upset, which is something we are working on too. It was nice to hear that he’s a pleasure to have in the class, and that he isn’t finding the work difficult.
Then this morning, there were tears when it came time for Pickle and I to go, and tears again when we picked him up, and tears at bedtime….my boy is tired, and when he’s tired, the tears flow, just like his mama. He told me, “I am never, ever going back to school” and my heart broke.
We sat on the stairs, he and I, and had a cuddle. We talked and he cried, and I held him as close to my heart as I possibly could. We talked about how cool school is, about how much fun he’s been having, and all the amazing things he’s already learned. We talked about how he can read 14 words after just two weeks, and about how lucky he was to get to bring Pete the Cat home this week. We talked about his new friends, about how one of the mums asked me for my number today so we can arrange a play date with our boys who have the same name. We talked and we giggled and his tears dried up, and he asked me, “How many days before I get to go to school again?”