Back to School

I used to roll my eyes at Mums on social media wittering on about their darlings starting big school and how much they were going to cry. More than roll my eyes actually; I used to pull faces that you normally only see in GIFs and have people pegged as dead bad cringey divs.

But now I am one of these dead bad cringey divs and I’ve never been sadder to buy a pair of little shoes in my life. Now I get it. Now I understand the rollercoaster of emotions that the Back to School season brings.

But why should I be sad? I should be celebrating it really. He’s happy, he’s healthy. He’s here. I remember being pregnant – and I was awfully anxious – never thinking a baby was ever going to arrive. And now he’s nearly 5. About to embark on an awfully big adventure.

He’s got teeny tiny grey school shorts to show off his Spaghetti Legs, regulation grey socks, and snazzy new school shoes.

I still need to get a PE kit bag (which I’ve been mooching on eBay for) and he’s ready to be sent off to Reception class next week to a fanfare usually reserved for Prince George from slightly too-close-for-comfort daily mail readers.

For now, I’m just about holding it together – but I can’t promise I’ll be saying the same in a week’s time. 

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