First day at pre-school

Twenty minutes ago I dropped off my baby boy at pre-school for the first time. I had planned to go straight to the shops afterwards but I need a little regrouping and a coffee first.  So I've come home.

Although the morning routine of getting dressed, washed and teeth brushed in our house can often be accompanied by lots of dawdling and a little rebellion, this morning the First Boy was a little angel. We both ate our porridge together and he didn't make a fuss with dressing or anything else. We put some spare clothes in his George Pig backpack, wrote his name inside and headed off. 'Nothing's going to upset me, Mummy,' he assured me when I told him I'd be leaving him at pre-school this morning and not staying with him like his induction sessions.  So independent, my little man.

We walked in through the school gates with all of the other patents and older, primary school children. I felt so protective but when I looked down at him I got a confident little grin back up at me. I held his little hand a bit tighter.

We were a good fifteen minutes early and had to wait outside when we got there, and the First Boy began to get impatient to go in.  When we got inside and found his key worker 'Auntie' Natalie, he became a little bit shy and hid his face, but he soon spotted some numbers on a display and started to point them out to her. Then he saw a toy farm and was off amidst the throng of other children. I had chance for a quick hug and kiss goodbye, and I whispered in a cracked voice that I loved him. And that was it. A few backwards glances from me. None from him. 

My baby boy released to the first stage of the school system. Here begin the days when his world will begin to ever widen and he becomes exposed to so many more influences than he could be at home and with family.  I know he will enjoy himself and it will be so good for his development. But this morning I feel a familiar vulnerability and rawness that comes with the territory of being a mummy.