Monday, 24 March 2014

Getting Schooled in Preschooling...

After a rocky few unsettled settling in sessions Euna took a big leap today and stayed for her first full morning at preschool. The leaving her was typically horrible. She cried, I put on a brave face, ran home and cried all over a bemused Bow. I doubted our choices about a million times and can say with all confidence that this has been, by far, the least confident I have ever been in a parenting choice.

But oh... Picking her up. Seeing her there on "the mat" with her key worker and the other children, her hair a mess, her clothes and face filthy with orange remnants from snack time, pen and mud all over her hands... All clues of things she's done without me. Mini traces of adventures gone solo. I'm so proud of her and so excited! Here she goes! Here it ALL starts! All the things she's set to do without me and outside the home we've given her.

No one prepared me for the pride I'd feel when she surprised me on this scale for the first time. I almost feel a little guilty for feeling something that felt like doubt in her abilities. Faith must've superseded it or we'd never of left her, but there's a lesson here and it's something to do with dreaming big about her abilities and being led by those dreams so she has opportunities to do herself proud.

This wasn't just another first, it was a new type of first. It's her first step out and the first time I need to trust others with my baby. And by trust that's not in a "please keep her alive whilst I go to the hairdressers" kind of way, this is an ongoing "you will become a constant part of her life and development" so I reallllllllyyyyyyy need to trust you. I'll keep you posted on that, I'm very aware that I am totally intimidated by the prospect of having to speak up if I think something about her care is less than ideal. Maybe it's something to do with this whole situation making me feel like I'm only playing at adulthood. Shouldn't my Mum be taking me to take daughter to play group?

We're learning and moving fast here. Too fast for habitually forward thinking me to anticipate everything, so *excited air punches* for good surprises and *nervous foot shuffles* at things that make me feel like I'm playing pretend mum.

Chugga-chugga-chugga...



















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