copyright © Home:Spin
For the recovery after I extracted her from my body and watched her march back into school.
copyright © Home:Spin
This September thing is kicking me in the emotional teeth. A big move to the big school grounds. A locker. A full week. Her best friend from preschool joining her (and the slings and arrows of friendship that are bound to return).
As expected, the tears and shaking head and hesitant mumbles of "I don't think I'm ready to do this today Mommy." started before we even headed out the door. The waiting mass upon arrival - not helping "No. They won't crush you. It's gonna be a-ok.".
15 minutes of calmly cajoling and reassuring...diverting...then bargaining...buying a few steps and managing to extract myself from the full body clutch. And the last sight was a completely tear soaked and quietly distraught bundle of fuchsia slowly marching into the unknown. I am fully aware that she'll be smiling and settling into her new surroundings before first break arrives - but it's those 15 minutes that I'm left with for the rest of the day. Six hours to wonder how she's doing and try to remember exactly what it was I used to do when the house wasn't in a summer uproar. Coffee, a healthy splash of Mother's Helper, several rows of knitting along to a good audiobook - seems like a good place to start.
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