Today heralded yet another milestone in our lives, the day Nathan started school.
We’ve enrolled him 3-days a week, from 9-12 at a local playschool. It’s quite something as any parent who’s experienced it will tell you.
Aside from the obvious there are things like buying a backpack, stationery, packing fresh fruit and labeling a gazillion bits of paraphernalia down to shoes and socks (not that he’s a fan of either).
As I’ve shared in the past being a Stay-At-Home-Dad is a bit of an anomaly in these parts, which in turn meant we didn’t really socialise with other kids during the first 2 years of his life, we largely had each other for company and more recently our childminder.
I was a little worried about how he might react around so many kids, though in all fairness he’s been attending our weekly Sunday school for the better part of a year, along with visits to the local park.
The day started with much fan fare, picking out his favourite clothes, packing his new backpack with apples, a water bottle and change of clothes. Brimming ear to ear we fired off a couple snapshots (begrudgingly I might add) and then made the journey to his new school.
On arrival we were met with many a tear from fellow classmates, after running the gauntlet we took him to meet his teacher, whose name he’d been practicing with us. After greeting her he found his coat hook and slung his bag over it before taking a seat by himself at the activity table, all of his own accord.
And that was that, no tears or heartache, just a friendly smile and wave with our impending departure.
Kathy and I returned to collect him at 12pm and found him happily playing on the jungle gym, greeting us with a hug and proudly showing off the star on his forehead.
His teacher was gushing at how confident and courteous he was, causing a sense of pride to well in my chest and thoughts of “That’s my boy!” running through my head.
She was surprised to see that he’s already potty trained and that he didn’t skip a beat asking for assistance when he needed to go. I felt like telling her that the reason was that in a day and age where most affluent folk use disposable nappies we used cotton, washable ones, a great motivator to get him onto the toilet as soon as he was up to it… I can’t imagine having to deal with TWO kids in nappies.
After saying our goodbyes we managed to leave relatively unscathed, though his favourite hat was lost in “The Battle of Fallen Toys”. There is hope though, because Mommy labelled it.