I've been feeling really centered about the fact that Hamish starts school this week. He's so excited that he has already packed his bag, decorated his library bag and told me exactly what he wants in his lunchbox for the first day. And it's contagious. Our whole household is buzzing with happy 'Hamish is starting school' vibes.
Until last night. It's been a hot humid few days in Sydney, and in our old double brick house it means that sleep (upstairs) is almost impossible. So as I lay there trying to get some sleep, I pondered on the whole school thing. And yes I am excited, and yes I do think that he is ready and will be fine but I had forgotten something. I had forgotten how much that first year of school changes them.
Jack was also excited about school and he fit into the whole thing really well, but by about 1/2 way through the year I noticed how much older he seemed. He was more self assured, he needed me less, and although he was still my little man, he was also developing in a direction that I had no control over. And that's a good thing. But its also challenging.
So on Thursday my littlest man starts on the same journey. By the end of this year, Hamish will be able to read. He will be more independent, more grown-up, he will be a very different version of the boy that I send off to school in a few days.. And yes I am excited, but I am also feeling aware that this is the beginning of him becoming, even more, the Hamish he is without me.