Monday, February 3, 2014
A letter to Tricky - on your first day of school
You were beyond excited to be starting kindy today - so much so that getting you to stand still for a photo was almost impossible. You have asked how many sleeps until school starts at least fifteen times a day since December and announced it proudly over the phone to your Aunty Penny and Aunty Steffi when you called them this morning.
We went to an orientation day at the end of last year and you got in there and actually played. A year ago you wouldn't have left my side at all. You were still timid and reserved, not talking to the other kids, but you spoke to the teachers and you played right next to the other kids. When everyone sat on the mat and you followed the instructions it was so cute. When you raised your hand with your finger pointing to the sky I melted in to a giant puddle right there and then. All the cute! But I didn't know how you'd go when I left.
I labeled all your things, including the things it turns out I wasn't meant to label, because I'm a bit in to that sort of thing. Labels these days are just so freakin' cool, miles ahead of the biro on a piece of paper sticky taped to the side. Yours have jungle animals on them and I considered buying a set for myself and just labeling all my things, too. I also contacted your scrap book because contacting rocks my (labeled) socks.
Today you excitedly walked with me to school while your grandparents watched Bobbin. That way I could give you all my attention at such a special time. You were a bit shy but warmed up quickly and jumped straight in to doing jigsaw puzzles. You are a legend at jigsaw puzzles. When it was time for you to sit on the mat to officially start the day you gave me a hug and a kiss, I told you I was proud of you and that I'd be back to pick you up before 3pm. With that you spun around and looked at the teacher... that was it. No tears. No tantrums. No begging for me to stay. Dude, you absolutely rocked it.
When I came to pick you up, there you were sitting on the mat with your bag and hat, ready to go and the biggest smile on your face. You have not stopped talking about all the things you did, the kids you met, the toys you played with and the "racing track - a 'Hot Wheels' racing track, mum" you painted.
I am loving watching you come out of your shell, little guy, and it is so nice that now other people can see you for who you are - a funny, cheeky boy with an answer for everything! I am so proud of you.
Have a great year, mate, I love you.