So the time has come when Bobby starts school, a time I have not been overly excited about.
As a very close family unit the 3 of us do most things together. So the thought of sending our little boy into a building all by him self didn’t make me feel at ease what so ever.
I had to start work at 6am, but I managed to pull some strings to get the morning off, I had to be there!
The wait outside of the new freshly cleaned and decorated school was long and anxious for all, parents were making small talk trying to take their mind off of the empending event. The children are looking at each other sizing each other up not knowing that they are all here today for the same reason.. The first day of their future.
We were ushered in, had a family photo in reception and found our son’s peg complete with name tag and water bottle, no different from what I can remember back in the early 90’s.
As I look down at Bobby I see fear and sadness in his eyes along with tears as he looks back at me I’m positive he can see exactly the same, I was petrified, but trying to be the strong one as Chelsea was in need of a tissue or two. My mum who kindly came along for moral support was also at breaking point. The feeling we all felt I believe was guilt but what is there to be guilty of we are doing what is right..
Once Bobby was in and settled with a train set and some friendly faces we made our exit and got on with our days.
Once I got to work I had a break and time to reflect, I posted this on my Facebook…
“Shoes polished, trousers and shirt pressed, our Baby boy is free now to learn his trade. We’ve taught him all he knows to this day now it’s up to him, as we sit and wait for when he needs us next. Good luck my little soldier. I’m so proud of who our son has become.”
Monday was a tough day..