I still cannot quite wrap my head around my little Oli-pop going to Grade One next year. To see my little baby in a uniform. It’s a monumental milestone, bringing with it so many exciting opportunities and the inevitable change. I wish I could tell you this was all about Oli, but in fact, it’s more about me, and how I’m feeling about this leap.
Oli’s Grade R graduation is coming up in the first week of December. Along with it, a series of ‘lasts’ at his Pre-Primary that has me feeling all the feels. I don’t know why I am so emotional about this move, is this normal?! His last Playball Graduation (he’s been doing this with the same coach since he was TWO), his last Christmas Carols dressed as a Shepherd, his last swimming prize giving, and so it goes. I guess what’s gotten me so emotional is reflecting back on his time in this amazing school and just how much he’s grown and flourished under their care and guidance. To say he’s a ‘different child’ to when he arrived, would be an understatement. He’s been showered with love, ushered and taught under the tutelage of some phenomenal teachers and I suppose I’m just hoping, and praying, the next school will be the same ‘right’ fit. It’s the last few weeks of having both my kids at the same school. The last few weeks of once-a-week homework, instead of daily homework. I’ve been forewarned by so many already-in-primary-school-parents of just how great this leap to Grade One is, that I am positively terrified.
There will be no more aftercare or holiday school. When school is over, I need to be there – ready and waiting to fetch him. I have nightmares of my little boy getting lost on the massive grounds, or walking out onto the road to look for me, or walking off with the wrong person in a whole new environment he won’t know how to navigate. There’s going to be new friends, new teachers and so many exciting new activities – but in the same thought, I worry about no friends, whether his teacher will be as amazing as to what we’re used to and whether or not he will love all of this. I’m a Mother, it’s my job to worry. There’s going to be uniforms (which I still haven’t bought!) and uniformity. While the idea of not having to select a daily outfit enthrals me, the thought of having to abide by so many new school rules also scares me shitless. Only a particular haircut. No hair product. A certain style and colour of bag, a certain shoe style, and so it goes. I feel the anticipation I felt going to a new school all over again.
Oli, on the other hand, sees this leap as an adventure. He’s going in with his eyes wide open and ready to lap up the new opportunities and meet new friends. He’s excited about wearing a uniform and trying new sports. About learning new subjects and eating a packed lunch. About golf and karate lessons after school. About holidays (sorry my boy, you’ll more than likely spend these at home) and mostly, about being in big school. My sweet Oli, I just know you’ll take to this adjustment like a duck to water, and I’m so proud.
No one likes change, even if it is inevitable, it makes (most of) us apprehensive and takes us far outside our comfort zones. I know that we’ll settle into a routine, and into our ‘new normal’, but for now my Oli, right now, I’m just not ready for you to be this big.