So… It seems that life has been seriously getting in the way lately. We have entered the second phase of unpacking after our house move, gone through slight rain-induced delirium over these pitiful summer months, and most significantly of all witnessed my eldest baby starting big school!
Naturally, he took it all in his stride and I was the one left standing, biting my fingernails as he trundled off in his slightly-too-big uniform. Since then, I find myself regularly reminiscing on my own first experiences of school… my first day, my best friend, my teachers, even the smell of wet lino as we changed into our plimsoles after play time. Memories I assumed were long ago smudged out of focus with drink and lack of sleep have leapt back to life with photographic clarity.
There is also the niggle that as I am a newbie to the area I don’t belong to any post-preschool mum clique, so I find myself smiling expectantly at any other parent who glances my way, and persuading my husband that we really need to join in the reception parents pub quiz next Friday night… Am I too keen? Okay slightly, but only because I want to live the dream… A full fat mocha, an 18th month old sleeping in the buggy, and a fab and stylish group of mums to gossip with in Starbucks. Isn’t that what starting school is all about?