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The pre-school bucket list
She’s still screaming now. She is alternately giddy with joy, then mired in anguish – all within seconds. She feels each emotion at a hundred and ten miles an hour. Navigating the highs and lows of her day routinely leaves me reeling, baffled and exhausted.
So basically that means she’s your average four year old.
And that, I have realised, also means I’ve had her for more than a quarter of the time that she’ll
BOOM.
Now the screaming is no longer an external noise pollution. It’s in my own head, and my own voice. It reverberates around my skull, from temple to temple, and the roar of it buzzes loudly in my ears.
Yes, in just a few short weeks, my baby goes to school. And that four years has gone by in the blink of an eye.
Obviously, I have known this was coming. But it has arrived rather faster than I thought it would – and like so many parenting milestones it’s hit me a great deal harder.
Already I can see this complex
Like most four year olds, she mostly knows best. She would prefer to experiment rather than take my word for something (often ending in the aforementioned screaming). Pretty much any authority is automatically ranked higher than Mummy. She doesn’t
But school or no, the fact is I am no longer the centre of her universe, solver of all problems, comforter of all woes. (I’m more the spoiler of fun and dictator of broccoli). And that’s only going to get worse as her confidence and independence grow.
That is, of course, the natural order of things, and of course it makes me as proud as punch to see her flourish and find her feet. It is also a
I for one am not ready.
It’s not actually the baby I’m pining for. I don’t really want to turn the clock back. I love watching her develop and learn. Every stage of her life has been my favourite – the one right in front of me. (Apart from the screaming). No, the only thing that’s not grown into its potential is ME.
My real sticking point is the thought of the mother I thought I’d be and never was.
Suddenly, I’ve been swamped with
And all at once, it feels like it’s too late. I’ve squandered those precious years we had together, and the treadmill of real life has caught us up.
Because school is the
The pangs I’m suffering are really pangs of withdrawal, because however selfishly, I loved being someone’s hero. Someone’s everything. Someone’s sun and moon. It’s addictive. And that time has
But the truth is, she was never really mine was she? She was always hers. From the very beginning. I just got lucky enough to borrow her until she got bigger.
Letting go isn’t much of a choice. The separation has already started to happen without my say so. And now I’ve got to face a different stage of parenthood – one where I have gradually less influence and importance. It will still be my job to help her find her own way, and help her find the very best of herself. I
Now, parents of the class of 2016, we get to watch them as they grow. We get to watch them fly – even if it’s in the other direction. We get to catch them when they fall. We get to love them, even when they’re not in our arms anymore.
All we can hope, really, is that the connection we’ve built is strong enough to bring them back when they need us. An elastic band that can stretch to give them freedom, but snaps into place
All I can hope is that I haven’t fucked it up too much.
And in the meantime, I can frantically spend the summer paying into that pot of connection, and filling in some of the gaps that are haunting me. Doing some of the things I thought I’d do as a Mummy.
So this, friends, is my pre-school bucket list. Let’s see how far I get before September. Your ideas and tips appreciated.
1. The craft project
There will be glitter. There will be the regrets, swearing, and daily hoovering
Look out Pinterest, here I come.
2. Science
I’m not one of life’s natural scientists. But there will be diet coke. There will be mentos mints. There will undoubtedly be a lot of cleaning up.
3. Water play
We do some water play, but not enough. This is probably because it takes a lot of setting up – finding the right attachment for the sprinkler, adding buckets of
This will be followed by approximately five minutes of play, and then demands to go inside and watch the telly. But I will do it. I might even invest in some water guns. And I will take smug pictures for Facebook of my children looking momentarily happy.
4. The great outdoors
The biggest barrier to the great outdoors is Dadonthenetheredge, who
But we live a stone’s throw away from some of the most beautiful countryside in the UK, and we will go out and bond in it whether anyone likes it or not. There will be stick sword fights. There will be picnics. There will be paddling. There may even be den building, but probably in the back garden.
5. One-on-one time
I don’t spend enough time one-on-one with the Big Small
I miss our games (apart from bucket list no 7), our chats, and playing with things small enough to fit in an esophagus. I miss focussing on her. So I plan to pack the baby off somewhere and concentrate – without distractions or goals – on just my big girl and whatever she wants to do.
6. Wrestling
Too often when the Big Small Person hits
7. Imaginative play
My own personal hell, in which I’m not allowed any independent thought or action, and seemingly cannot EVER follow the instructions I’m given to the satisfaction of the three foot Director/Despot of the game. Also I am required to do the character voices (to the
8. Baking
I never baked anything other than potatoes before the small people came along, and since then have I’ve only begrudgingly extended my repertoire to include cupcakes. These sessions have been few and far between, though, as I cannot bear to witness either the mess or the incompetence. I will get over this.
I will let flour cover the
9. Movies/theatre
Again, one related to the Small Small Person. We’ve not done enough of this sort of thing because it’s not
10. Not shouting
There will be a day. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But soon. Ish. Where –
I.
WILL.
NOT.
SHOUT.
Even if I’ve asked people to put their shoes on three billion times. Even if
Wish me luck.
And let me know what’s on your bucket list, too.
Mumonthenetheredge
Visit the mumonthenetheredge at www.mumonthenetheredge.wordpress.com, www.facebook.com/mumonthenetheredge or follow on Twitter at @netheredgemum. Expect neurosis, profanity, angst and over-sharing.