This week social media has been awash with smiling cherubic faces proudly wearing their school uniforms, and behind most camera lens is a misty-eyed parent. Walking my son to school for his very first morning was more than a tad emotional’ his little knees peeping out beneath his freshly ironed shorts and his chubby little hands clutching his book bag. Tears pricked my eyes for the umpteenth time that hour as I watched him skip into the playground to see his friends. Selfishly, I wish that I could stop time and keep him with me always, a small dependent little man who needs me always. The reality is that my four going on fourteen-year-old is more than ready to start school, just like his brother.
Once through the door, rather than waiting for the roll call, my cheeky chappy simply said “It’s OK Mommy, they know me here,” and with that, he bounded down the corridor and grabbed his teacher’s hand. All the feels.
As hard as it was for me to watch my baby step into the world of education, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I want to be front row and centre in every step he takes, and the idea of missing this momentous occasion fills me with horror.
Yet so many parents don’t have a choice.
My heart is heavy for the working mama who couldn’t get the time off to wave her daughter off and had to send Daddy instead. I think of the separated parents who missed out on the first day
I think of the separated parents who missed out on the first day because it ‘wasn’t their week’. I think of the dad who works away for months on end and had to wish his son good luck via FaceTime this morning.
I think of the parents who had to drop their precious child off at wraparound and missed out on the hustle and bustle of 30 excited four-year-old in shiny shoes and new shirts. I think of high profile parents the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge; poor Catherine, pregnant with her third child and suffering from hyperemesis gravidarum, was unable to watch her firstborn take his first steps into education. As she witnessed the milestone on social media like everyone else, it must have broken her heart.
Then there are the parents whose doorways are empty. The moms and dads whose babies grew angel wings far too soon and didn’t live to their fourth birthday. These parents know all too well that their child should have had their first day at school this week, yet there are no new shoes in the hallway, excited chatter in the home or pictures on the walls.
I deeply appreciate how blessed I am to be a mom of three. I have always dreamed of being a parent, and although I fail massively on a fairly regular basis, I wouldn’t trade the tantrums and tears for anything. This week has been a week of firsts, the first year in Juniors for my eldest, the first day in school for my second son, and the first day juggling three children on a school run. But it was a moment that I was able to be part of thanks to being self-employed, thanks to a loving God, and a supportive husband, and a moment that I will remember for the rest of my life.
As much as it hurts to let them go and let them grow, the ability to be able to stay home and nurture three little lives is a privilege. So as I blink back tears at the unfairness of time not standing still and feel sorry for myself this coming week, I will remember in my prayers those who would give anything to be in my position.