I just said goodbye to my youngest child since he's going to be at school all day for the first time. I'm not sad, I guess, more melancholy. Like where did the time go and all that. I'm thinking a lot about when the kids were babies and how much they needed me. Twenty-four seven. Constantly. Today when I dropped off Elliott and Audrey they hardly looked back at me once they found their friends. Even though there was a chaos of parents and teachers.
Henry was a bit different since he is at a different school that is much bigger than his last. He clung to my leg for a few minutes and made me feel wanted. But when I asked him if he was scared, he said no. I think he may have sensed that I needed the hug.
I had to fight following him to his class (and taking the desk right beside his) and as I stood there in the schoolyard watching the big blue school door shut behind him I kind of felt like a chapter of my life was over. My kids are independent. They don't need a mummy. I hope they make good choices and become good people.
Oh, for Christ's sake. They're only 10, 8 and 6! Of course they need a mum. Who's going to do their laundry? Bandage scraped knees? Listen to their long, rambling stories about Yu-Gi-Oh, Littlest Petshop or some such nonsense? Who will darn their socks? Well, let's not get carried away. Who will buy them new socks? Cook their picky picky meals? Bake their favourite cookies? Dad? HA! It's ME baby. You heard me. SOOOPERMUM! They'll always need me. Right? Hellooooo? Guuuys?