You would think after co-writing a blog on preparing your child for big school, I’d have bells on a week in advance. No, I found myself panicking at 9pm the eve of her first day with a permanent marker scribbling her name on ever stitch of school clothing. Kayla awoke the next day questioning who had been doodling on her uniform, then proceeded to protest her hatred for it. She detested the colour, the skirt was to short (I’ll remind her of that one in a few years) and the tie, she despised the tie. Unfortunately for her she had to wear it.

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After about what felt like an hour helping her get dressed she lost a bloody butterfly charm off one of her shoes; FML. I now spent the next half hour searching the whole house for this stupid butterfly, damn you Dunnes Stores!! Eventually I found it, but this was no good, she want it fixed five minutes ago. I somehow calmly reassured her, nobody would notice, nana’s magic kit would sew it back on that evening, she soon overcame her fear of a fashion fail on the first day. It is day five and we are still waiting on nana and her magic kit.

Her daddy and his family came over for some photos. Poor Frankie was dumped with the neighbour; after all it was her big day. We both walked her to school. It was a picturesque moment; she skipped holding both mammy’s and daddy’s hand. It actually brought a tear to my eye. Two years ago we couldn’t bear to be in the same room. Both putting aside our difference for our little princess, she smiled, giggled and I enjoyed every moment of it. Then she realized she was walking for longer than three minutes. She had now endured the longest walk of her life.

Kayla is loud, very loud. She really likes the sound of her own voice. The fear of the unknown shut her up for just a tiny second as she sat down in her classroom. Teacher had announced it was time for parents to leave, my throat dried, the horrible lump appeared, trying to hold back the tears as she waved, then completely ignored us as she concentrated so hard a putting her build-a-blocks together. I did however notice that the blinds were shut, a pointless manoeuvre I had planned, to peak through to see if she was settling ok; again, not taking any of my own advice. I did cry, for just a minute. I soon realized how peaceful it was at home, an hour in school was just not long enough. It was bliss. 

Upon collection she declared that she wouldn’t be going back to school the next day and would be found watching movies, in her pajamas and eat ice-cream all day. Somewhat of a routine we had encountered through the summer. 

I spent the hour on her first day wondering if she missed me, if she needed help, if she needed a hug. Reality is my baby isn’t a baby anymore; my independent, energetic, beautiful little girl is growing up. 

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