First days of School

Such a big day for every family. The first day of School. Almost since the day IK was born I have imagined what that day would feel like, watching her walk into school in her uniform. Some times I have wanted it to come quickly, usually on the days she has driven me slightly crazy, other times I have wanted to slow time down and keep her little and at home safely with me.

After applying almost a year ago and months of build up with leaving nursery, taster days at school and uniform buying, the day finally dawned. I watched my little girl dress herself in her uniform, so far from that small baby who was dressed in white baby grows, helpless and tiny. I brushed her long blond hair and tied it up, so far from the crazy mop of dark hair she was born with that smelt like baby shampoo and powder. I watcher her, walking hand in hand with her sister, down the street to her first day at school, in some ways so grown up, so ready for this big step and yet, still so much my little baby.

This day was so far away from what I had been imagining for the first three and a half years of IK's life. I had always thought we could go as a family, her Dad with us, hand in hand, sharing the pride of our daughter growing up, remembering the baby she was, wondering at the young woman she would grow into. The reality was different; it was just us three, braving another new adventure together. Her Dad was not there, he had completely missed this special moment in our little girl's life. It can never be re captured, but it is not the first important time he  has missed and it wont be the last. I wondered how both girls would feel looking back on their childhood and realising their Dad missed so many things. This is one of the hardest things to for me to come to terms with as a single parent. If we had both tired harder, would our girls be having a happier childhood, or was this outcome inevitable? Did his sudden departure merely save us from a few unhappy years before we eventually called time on our marriage? It’s a question I know there will never be an answer to. So I have to comfort myself that over a year on from our separation, both girls have adjusted to our new life and seem happy and content.

So I left IK in the classroom, looking slightly apprehensive but sitting ready to start this journey with the other children in her class. When I picked her up later she emerged with her usual happiness and seemed totally un phased by the big step she had taken. The funny thing about the first day of school was it is only the beginning. I had focused so much on the first day I had forgotten that she would be going every day! The world of the school run, packed lunches and homework will now dominate our lives for many years to come, but for now I am just pleased she has settled in so well 

Working, Weddings and Feeling, Well, Rubbish

Well it has been a while since my last post and that is because quite frankly life has got away from me a bit.

Working – Just in case you were wondering I didn’t take my own mug and I opted for a skirt and smart white top. It is so far so good. My first week was great, I got to meet lots of new people, drink lots of tea and drive a golf buggy. The second week was when the work started coming in, and it’s a good job I like to be busy because I think I will be. It has been more tiring than I thought, even though I am only working part time, and it is safe to say the housework and laundry have been slightly out of control, but if something has to give, I’m happy for it to be that!

Weddings – There is something quite surreal about attending a wedding with your ex husband. I will explain a bit more. One of the ex’s friends from school got married last week and it is someone I have know since before I even got together with the ex (a mutual friend thing that is too complicated to go into). So I was really touched when the girls and I were still invited to the wedding, despite having divorced his friend. We came to the mutual decision not to take the girls (small children + wedding = no fun for mummy). The wedding was beautiful and full of little individual touches that really showed the couple personality, my favourite was the song that was played during the signing of the register Stevie Wonder’s Signed Sealed Delivered (I’m yours), very cute.

The champagne and wine flowed, the food was lovely, there was much dancing and lots of fun had. But being at a wedding with the person whom you made those, supposed binding vows with was strange. It wasn’t awkward and we didn’t argue, it was just weird thinking how I’d felt the day we had got married and how it had ended. With him being so physically close, and yet our lives are now so far apart. There was a funny moment however when we were stood outside the reception having a chat about the girls and some mutual friends when a friend did a casual walk by, I think at the insistence of his wife, to make sure we were busy killing each other! It has been hard at times, to preserve our amicable relationship, and I know that it isn’t always possible; divorce is a painful and at times traumatic process that brings with it a lot of anger and resentment. But it has definitely been worth the effort, after all, we have at least 16 years of parenting our girls to do!

Feeling, well, Rubbish – The thing I hate most happened this weekend, D&V hit our house. It started with CJ and meant our plans for a weekend away visiting friend were out the window. After being up most of the night being sick she seemed ok, if tired. My mum took IK out for lunch then to play at hers so me and CJ could catch up on some much needed rest. Now I have more reasons than most to hate it when either me or the girls get sick, you see I used to suffer with emetophobia (a fear of vomit) It is a this point that many of you may laugh, but trust me when I say this fear, like many other, was debilitating and at times ruled my life. I would avoid any situation where I could potentially get trapped with someone being sick (train rides, limo rides, hotel stays etc) and I missed many birthday and hen nights. In fact it reached crisis point when IK got a tummy bug (and so did the ex) when she was about two. I was a nervous wreck and wanted to run away and leave them both. Not the caring, loving mummy reaction I would hope for. So I invested in a self hypnosis course specifically designed for emetophobia and whilst I felt generally calmer and stopped (almost completely) avoiding potentially sicky situations, I had not yet had to deal with either the girls or myself being ill (the last bout of D&V happened on daddy’s watch). So when I was calmly dealing with CJ and the unavoidable clearing up job, I did feel a bit of pride in how far I had come and that actually I was only concerned with getting her cleaned up and comforting her, much more the mummy reaction I would hope for. But it was inevitable I suppose that it would not stop with CJ, thankful it was after the girls had been collected by their Dad that the symptoms finally got the better of me and it was my mum who then stepped in. She bought me round some fizzy water and made sure I drank plenty and it was her soup that finally made me feel a bit better when my appetite returned a bit.

So, touch wood and fingers crossed, we are all ok, because this week is the big one, IK is starting School………