 |
| Leaving for the last day of pre-school |
 |
| In a grump here because he had to put down the special balloon that the magician had given him earlier! |
 |
| With Auntie Natalie. He soon recovered his good mood once he was reunited with his balloon sword |
Showing posts with label Pre-school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pre-school. Show all posts
Thursday, 30 July 2015
Saying goodbye to pre-school
If the emotions of M's pre-school graduation day are anything to go by, his first day at school, this coming September, will have me taking out shares in Kleenex!
On the last day of pre-school, the children had a little ceremony in the primary school hall, where each of the 'Aunties' made a little speech, followed by the children going up to collect their scrolls. It made me realise how much the staff really care for the little people in their charge, as nearly all of them were unable to keep back the tears. That in turn, nudged many of the already emotional mothers over the edge, so that all you could hear were sniffs and the rustle of mummies searching in handbags for tissues.
It has only been nine months since M started at pre-school, but I think it has really helped him to learn how to interact with other children his age. I've liked that there has been little emphasis on academic learning; after all, they will have the rest of their childhoods in the school system. I'm glad that pre-school gives kids the opportunity just to be three and four year olds, and spend their time playing and socialising. When M began at pre-school at the age of 3 years and 3 months, he wasn't interested in playing with other children that much, preferring just to play alongside them. Now, he actively seeks out the company of other children, and has made some 'best friends'. I do hope that, as he goes into his school days, he can make a solid friendship group. I think that is so important for giving children confidence and security.
Tuesday, 19 May 2015
9 lessons learnt during the pre-school year
We are approaching the end of my big boy's days at pre-school. As one of the youngest in his year group, turning four in July, he has only been there since September, so it's a stage in his life that seems to have gone by very quickly.
Here are my nine lessons learnt by being mummy to a pre-schooler:
1. If there is a uniform, buy it. And buy more of it than you think you're going to need. You want to send your little angel out into the big wide world dressed in something half decent, but trust me, it's going to come back (even after a half-session) with green paint up the sleeves, snot on the cuffs, and yogurt spattered down the front. I wave goodbye to a dapper little chap in the morning and invariably collect a street urchin at 2.45pm.
2. That your pre-schooler will spend much of their pre-school year being poorly. No sooner do they finally get rid of that lingering snail-trail of a cold than they fall prey to another bout of the lurgy. They're mixing with a group of children with various combinations of germs, and it's inevitable that they'll spend more time poorly than well. And you will get these germs too. Wider members of your family will also join the infected. This year, I've had about three colds, one horrendous dose of the flu, and an episode of laryngitis. One particular nasty virus did the rounds of M, F, me, my mum, my sister, my nan and my mother and father in law. Stock up on Calpol for them and paracetamol for you.
3. That, even if your child is fortunate enough to escape the dreaded nits, you will spend much of your free time sitting on the floor with your child's head clamped between your knees, inspecting their scalp like a mother orang-utan.
4. You will make very many journeys home from pre-school, (hoods up against the gales and the rain) holding your child's sticky hand, pushing the pram with the other, with enough pre-school art wedged under your arm to start a new Tate Modern. It usually comes in the guise of a loo roll inner tube stuck precariously with sticky tape to an empty tissue box stuck even more precariously with sticky tape to a cereal box, all daubed in yet-to-dry paint. 'Look at my rocket, Mummy!' Then, when you get home, you have the dilemma of how long you have to keep the thing on display before moving it closer and closer towards the recycling bin and then finally judging the best moment to ditch it. 'Mummy, where's my rocket?'
5. At the beginning of the pre-school days, much like the first few weeks of a new school term when you couldn't wait to write in your pristine exercise book and use your sharp new pencils, the first few weeks of preparing lunchboxes for your child is a real novelty. Visions of lovingly prepared mini salads, wraps and sliced tropical fruits give way to the same rotation of three bog standard sarnies, yogurt, apple/banana/Satsuma and maybe a little treat like a cake or Freddo frog. Make friends with kitchen foil and sealable sandwich bags, because those mini Tupperware containers ain't coming back home! And plastic spoons are a necessity, otherwise your cutlery drawer will soon become rather bereft of teaspoons.
6. Don't stress about the Accident Book. The first couple of times that M's key worker informed me that he was wearing a wristband (theme-park style) because he had had a 'little accident' I went into a mini panic. It turns out that he stubbed his toe. One particular day, I collected him and he was sporting two accident bands (a badge of honour?) but it's never been anything more than a little bump on the head or a knock on the knee.
7. Getting out of the house and to pre-school punctually, and at the same time as the entire area's workforce, the local primary school kids, and the local secondary school kids, is a bit of a skill to master. I've learnt this year exactly how much of a time buffer I have to build in to our departure to take account of the following:
8. You will receive invitations to a LOT of birthday parties of children you don't know. You're not even sure whether your child knows the birthday boy/girl. I've tested M by asking him if he knows certain kids in his pre-school, and then by making up names. He always says that he knows the made-up child. You begin to realise that it doesn't matter whose party it is; as far as your little one is concerned, there's a bouncy castle, and sausages on sticks and fairy cakes, so who cares? The time then comes for your own child's party and you feel the temptation to do something different to the tried and tested party in the sports centre with the bouncy castle and the sausages and the cakes, but come to the realisation that it's a popular format for a reason. Chiefly, that (a) it's not in your house, and (b) you don't have to supervise pass the parcel for 30 four year olds.
9. But all of this comes with some good parts. As well as a bit of a break from the constant Lego, trips to the park, and at-home crafting sessions, you will also get to see that look of absolute adoration when you arrive to collect your grubby, yogurt-spattered, wristband-wearing, paint-daubed cherub, and feel your heart swell as they squeal, 'It's MY Mummy!!! Can you carry this rocket, Mummy?'
Here are my nine lessons learnt by being mummy to a pre-schooler:
1. If there is a uniform, buy it. And buy more of it than you think you're going to need. You want to send your little angel out into the big wide world dressed in something half decent, but trust me, it's going to come back (even after a half-session) with green paint up the sleeves, snot on the cuffs, and yogurt spattered down the front. I wave goodbye to a dapper little chap in the morning and invariably collect a street urchin at 2.45pm.
2. That your pre-schooler will spend much of their pre-school year being poorly. No sooner do they finally get rid of that lingering snail-trail of a cold than they fall prey to another bout of the lurgy. They're mixing with a group of children with various combinations of germs, and it's inevitable that they'll spend more time poorly than well. And you will get these germs too. Wider members of your family will also join the infected. This year, I've had about three colds, one horrendous dose of the flu, and an episode of laryngitis. One particular nasty virus did the rounds of M, F, me, my mum, my sister, my nan and my mother and father in law. Stock up on Calpol for them and paracetamol for you.
3. That, even if your child is fortunate enough to escape the dreaded nits, you will spend much of your free time sitting on the floor with your child's head clamped between your knees, inspecting their scalp like a mother orang-utan.
4. You will make very many journeys home from pre-school, (hoods up against the gales and the rain) holding your child's sticky hand, pushing the pram with the other, with enough pre-school art wedged under your arm to start a new Tate Modern. It usually comes in the guise of a loo roll inner tube stuck precariously with sticky tape to an empty tissue box stuck even more precariously with sticky tape to a cereal box, all daubed in yet-to-dry paint. 'Look at my rocket, Mummy!' Then, when you get home, you have the dilemma of how long you have to keep the thing on display before moving it closer and closer towards the recycling bin and then finally judging the best moment to ditch it. 'Mummy, where's my rocket?'
5. At the beginning of the pre-school days, much like the first few weeks of a new school term when you couldn't wait to write in your pristine exercise book and use your sharp new pencils, the first few weeks of preparing lunchboxes for your child is a real novelty. Visions of lovingly prepared mini salads, wraps and sliced tropical fruits give way to the same rotation of three bog standard sarnies, yogurt, apple/banana/Satsuma and maybe a little treat like a cake or Freddo frog. Make friends with kitchen foil and sealable sandwich bags, because those mini Tupperware containers ain't coming back home! And plastic spoons are a necessity, otherwise your cutlery drawer will soon become rather bereft of teaspoons.
6. Don't stress about the Accident Book. The first couple of times that M's key worker informed me that he was wearing a wristband (theme-park style) because he had had a 'little accident' I went into a mini panic. It turns out that he stubbed his toe. One particular day, I collected him and he was sporting two accident bands (a badge of honour?) but it's never been anything more than a little bump on the head or a knock on the knee.
7. Getting out of the house and to pre-school punctually, and at the same time as the entire area's workforce, the local primary school kids, and the local secondary school kids, is a bit of a skill to master. I've learnt this year exactly how much of a time buffer I have to build in to our departure to take account of the following:
- a point-blank refusal to get dressed/brush his teeth/get in the car
- a little brother nappy explosion
- getting stuck behind the school bus
- being unable to park within a mile of pre-school
- a last-minute breastfeed for little brother
8. You will receive invitations to a LOT of birthday parties of children you don't know. You're not even sure whether your child knows the birthday boy/girl. I've tested M by asking him if he knows certain kids in his pre-school, and then by making up names. He always says that he knows the made-up child. You begin to realise that it doesn't matter whose party it is; as far as your little one is concerned, there's a bouncy castle, and sausages on sticks and fairy cakes, so who cares? The time then comes for your own child's party and you feel the temptation to do something different to the tried and tested party in the sports centre with the bouncy castle and the sausages and the cakes, but come to the realisation that it's a popular format for a reason. Chiefly, that (a) it's not in your house, and (b) you don't have to supervise pass the parcel for 30 four year olds.
9. But all of this comes with some good parts. As well as a bit of a break from the constant Lego, trips to the park, and at-home crafting sessions, you will also get to see that look of absolute adoration when you arrive to collect your grubby, yogurt-spattered, wristband-wearing, paint-daubed cherub, and feel your heart swell as they squeal, 'It's MY Mummy!!! Can you carry this rocket, Mummy?'
Tuesday, 24 February 2015
Adventures with the pre-school bear
This half term we were given the privilege of looking after the pre-school bear for the week, and taking snaps of him as we went about our holiday fun. Thankfully, we made it through the week without losing him, although he is a little grubbier, and smells suspiciously of chocolate.
M has been so excited about looking after Birchwood Bear; he has remembered to bring him along whenever we've gone out, and he's slept with him in bed every night (apart from when we forgot and left him at Nanny and Granddad's!)
We took Birchwood Bear back to pre-school this morning. M was a little bit upset the night before. 'I'm never going to see Birchwood again! He was my best toy!' Never one to skimp on the dramatics, my son. With the promise that he can cuddle Birchwood any time he likes when he's at pre-school, I'm hoping that there'll be no tears when I pick him up later, sans bear.
Here's a round-up in pictures of a few things we got up to with Birchwood Bear. Thank goodness it wasn't a hamster we were asked to look after!
M has been so excited about looking after Birchwood Bear; he has remembered to bring him along whenever we've gone out, and he's slept with him in bed every night (apart from when we forgot and left him at Nanny and Granddad's!)
We took Birchwood Bear back to pre-school this morning. M was a little bit upset the night before. 'I'm never going to see Birchwood again! He was my best toy!' Never one to skimp on the dramatics, my son. With the promise that he can cuddle Birchwood any time he likes when he's at pre-school, I'm hoping that there'll be no tears when I pick him up later, sans bear.
Here's a round-up in pictures of a few things we got up to with Birchwood Bear. Thank goodness it wasn't a hamster we were asked to look after!
Monday, 16 February 2015
Bowled over!
It's half term, and that means that pre-school is out! And by happy coincidence, G has a dry patch in terms of work, so we get to spend lots of time together this week.
We also have a special visitor with us this week - Birchwood Bear has come to stay from M's pre-school, and we've been asked to take some photos of Birchwood having fun with us this half-term.
First on the list for the week's adventures was ten-pin bowling - M's very first time. We had the ramp to help with the actual bowling, and the gutters of the bowling lane had the buffers fitted, but my bowling was still rubbish. G got one strike, at which M cheered enthusiastically, and I got a spare. It was all good fun.
Birchwood Bear even had a go, with the help of M. It was great to see M really enjoying something new, and great for us to know that we have another rainy day activity up our sleeves!
We also have a special visitor with us this week - Birchwood Bear has come to stay from M's pre-school, and we've been asked to take some photos of Birchwood having fun with us this half-term.
First on the list for the week's adventures was ten-pin bowling - M's very first time. We had the ramp to help with the actual bowling, and the gutters of the bowling lane had the buffers fitted, but my bowling was still rubbish. G got one strike, at which M cheered enthusiastically, and I got a spare. It was all good fun.
Birchwood Bear even had a go, with the help of M. It was great to see M really enjoying something new, and great for us to know that we have another rainy day activity up our sleeves!
Tuesday, 16 September 2014
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts
(
Atom
)