And the Last Little Duckling is Off
C has been ready to go to Reception for over a year. Technically she should have gone last year because here in the UK they start formal school at the ripe old age of 4, but I decided to apply to the council to hold her a year since she has a summer birthday and we had just moved. Thankfully, there were no issues with starting her at school a year later, and the headmaster at our school was happy to let the decision fall to me as her mom to make the best decision for her.
She started school at the same school as the boys a couple of weeks ago. Occasionally moments creep in where I wish we still lived in Colorado. This month has been one of them. If we still lived there I could have asked for her to start kindergarten next year, and she would have had one more year with me while continuing with preschool part time. That was just me being selfish though because she seems to be ready, although I do hold the belief that during young years, the connection between a child and their family is the most important. More important than friendships and organized education. There is a lot of emphasis on structure and systems in regards to education here in the UK. I don't love it if I'm being honest, but the kids seem happy to be learning. R even took it up on himself to dive into the periodic table last week. I can't blame him. I used to be a periodic table nerd myself.
Anyway, C is off. She had her first full week of school last week, and I had no idea what to do with myself. I cringed every time a friend asked, "So what did you do today?" because I couldn't actually think of anything besides laundry.
I am trying to be gentle with myself knowing this is a pretty huge life transition after being a stay at home mom for 9 years. Plus, I have learned a great deal about myself the last 5 years, particularly since moving, and I now realize I can't force myself into the next stage too quickly or pressure myself into "doing something" just to feel productive.
Among my nothingness I have plunged back into painting and writing, hence the record of two blog posts in one week. I have a book sitting in my documents folder that got abandoned last year. (Once I lose the rhythm on a big project, I have no idea how to get back on track.) I took a children's book illustrating course last fall, and so I am trying to get back on track with that. I'm also using a renovation program to try to plan out every square inch (or centimeter since we're in the metric world). That has its limits though - decision fatigue is real, and my brain can only take so much of the house project every day before I feel like I just took a 4 hour test on a subject I hate.
That being said, I feel that everything in life serves a purpose. I'm realizing that the purpose of this really uncomfortable transition might be to finally take a minute to sit with myself. To be me. To figure out exactly what that means when maybe I have never actually done that before. To be okay with being uncomfortable. To be okay with being sad.
