Metal Mummy

My baby is growing up. I don’t like the rate at which this is happening. I can still remember when she used to splatter herself (and the walls) with puree’d food and showed pure determination trying to roll over.

Now, here she is, 2 years old and off to her first morning at pre-school. There’s a local one that accepts children from 2 years old, and to be honest, I know it will do her good to have a constant interaction with children. We do have a lot of firneds with children living nearby, but it doesn’t give her guaranteed play time with her friends. Thats why I chose to take her to pre-school as soon as she was old enough.

For 2 mornings a week, she will be off to play between 9am and 12am. Up until yesterday, I was fine about it, but as the day started to draw nearer, I started feeling sick to the stomach. Imagining all sorts of horrendous situations, like what if she gets out? There’s a busy road right outside the gates…

Don’t think like that Hannah. She’ll be fine.

I took her in today, found her name on the list. She’s on the “red table” (basically a table for the littlies i.e. under 3s). I was given the invoice for the term’s fees (bloody cheap may I add) and watched as my little girl was in her element. I was holding her hand and she prised my fingers away so she could run off to play. It was lovely to see how independent she has become as she tottered off to play with the dolls house.

I spoke to her keyworker, who is lovely and was introduced briefly to the children that could be her new found friends, and then left. I didn’t have to say goodbye. I didn’t have to reassure her that everything was OK and I’d be back in a few hours to pick her up. I just left her as she looked in awe at all the stuff and all the kids that she’d been left with.

Just hope she behaves herself!