First Day in Reception

I was fairly organised the other weekend when I decided to attempt to sort out the Boys school uniform. I say fairly as it became evident that he had somehow lost the school plimsoll’s that I had so diligently bought for him at the start of the summer holidays. I think this sparked our rapid descent into what can only be described as a sort of insanity which ended up in me and the boy having a big fight in Verulamium Park over a scooter, much to the enjoyment of onlookers. This resulted in a television ban and some nice calm days of parenting in our house. I don’t think I realised just how much the television drives me mad.

Anyway, things slip and I found myself rushing around this morning gathering together all the required bits and bobs for school and noticing that actually I had forgotten to label essential items such as his coat. Oh, well. Amidst all of this the boy was beyond excited at the prospect of seeing his buddies, the naughty ones in particular. He spent an hour bouncing around the living room asking whether it was time to go yet. All the time I was thinking about how he could have managed to achieve the worst bed-head of his entire life which could not be sorted with motherly spit and patting (keeping it real).

Half an hour before the allocated start of reception I began to feel incredibly nervous. I had a flashback of my first day in reception where I had to sit on a rug with loads of kids and listen to a classical music recording of Peter and the Wolf, followed by the crafting of a Space-ship. Funny how these things stick with you.

The boy bounded out of the front door, even stopping to put his shoes on himself. Something unheard of normally, as he likes a bit of pampering. We appeared at school, far too early, luckily I saw someone I knew so could employ a stalling tactic of the school run chat. As he went through the door I thought that this is one of those moments which I would add to my bank of memories; a small boy rushing to get away from his mother, begrudgingly allowing her to give him a kiss. Don’t suppose he gave me a second thought. I hope the rest of the week goes as smoothly…


3 Responses

  1. Sally 7th September 2011 / 10:08 am

    It really is a memory for the bank, isn't it? It's so easy to forget that when you're rushing about and trying to get their hair looking respectable..

  2. Spencer Park 7th September 2011 / 7:42 pm

    It was my boy&#39;s first day yesterday. I hope all went well for your lad (and you).<br /><br />As you say these days will live long in the memory.

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