Another Sunday.....another 12 hours in work........another 12 hours to think....and think...and think. I'm not sure whether thinking this much is a string to my proverbial bow or just a pain in the backside to be honest. At the moment I seem to be fretting about the smallest of things - and I can't see the point of it, but do it anyway.... I think the real reason for my emotional unrest is that this week sees a huge change to lifestyle and routine - the 6 week Summer holidays are over. Term time is around the corner.
This is a major thing in my life since my SLA is a teacher and the Bean is entering his 2nd year of full time school. I can vividly remember the stomach wrenching feeling of dropping him off on his first day this time last year. I was prepared for a few tears but nothing had prepared me for the helplessness and detachment I felt as I walked away from the door; with tears rolling down my face and a large part of me still standing in the cloakroom.
There is no real reason that this Tuesday should be anywhere near that harrowing - we've been there, done it, got the T shirt....the main stress this time is that we are doing it all at a new school.
The Bean is only five, but this will be, unbelieveably, the third school he has attended. We have just had the most awful experiences so far and we really hope that we have now found somewhere that he will be happy. School number one - he started there at 3, only a few weeks after we lost my mum. Despite having been told what had happened the teacher still thought it appropriate to put him on the naughty chair almost every day for crimes such as singing at snack time....he also came home with several injuries.......enough was enough and we took him out.
School number two was one I spotted on the internet....not far from us and looked great....we went for a look round and it seemed fine. He started there and was fine for the rest of his nursery year. Last Sept he started his reception year and became some kind of punch bag...... I've lost count of the number of injuries he has had - all caused by a couple of other boys in his class. The staff seemed unable to control them and again, to protect our little boy, we have taken him out. I never did get so much as an apology from the headmistress of the school - I am disgusted at the way his safety was treated.
Enter school number three......and I have a good feeling about this one. The headmaster is someone I trust, he is a friend of a friend and I hope he can turn school and education into something more fun now!!
So anyway, I ramble, I am currently stressing the small stuff in an attempt to avoid worrying about the bigger stuff.....for example.....I'll worry about sewing in name tags rather than wondering if the Bean will cry when I leave him on Tuesday. I think about the washing so I don't think about whether he'll be scared in a new place surrounded by people he doesn't know. I stress about cleaning the car instead of wondering if he'll be on his own at playtime and wishing he was at home.....I think.....I think.....I think....You know Descartes wasn't far wrong.......I think therefore I am.....I worry therefore I'm a mummy.