Wednesday, 10 July 2013

End of term...

Feeling a bit melancholy about the passing of time...my boys growing up...loss of innocence and all that...

(Or maybe just dreading the loss of my own life for the long summer holiday ahead!) 


Both boys have had really great teachers during this last school year and they'll be sorry to say goodbye to them. We're into the rounds of school reports, sports days, swimming galas, summer fairs, open evenings and leaving parties now.


The ten-year-old's grown a lot over the last few months - suddenly he's almost as tall as I am. He wears a wristwatch now so that he can go to the park with his friends and hang out after school. His class have just finished some (quite detailed) sex education lessons. So he knows pretty much everything - although there's still a fair bit that he doesn't fully understand - I hope!

In September, he will be going into year 6 and it'll be his final year at the primary school we live almost next door to. He'll be wearing the largest sized school jumpers, taking his cycling proficiency test (so he no longer has to ride on the pavement) and going away for an entire WEEK on the PGL camping trip. After that, he'll have to walk to the insanely big senior school about a mile away - without me - yikes!

He'll probably be fine, but I'm not sure how I'm going to deal with it all...


As for the seven-year-old, he'll be leaving the infants behind and joining the juniors. And - like his brother - he's become scarily tall. He's insisting upon making his own breakfast, locking the bathroom door behind himself, shampooing his own hair, tying his laces, choosing his own outfits, even applying his own sun lotion - everything!
So, after years of moaning about having to do it all, I'm becoming redundant. Which is not a bad thing exactly...but it does feel a bit weird.


Yesterday, I walked through the park in the sunshine and saw the groups of mothers having picnics with their toddlers and babies. They sat by the baby swings and those bouncy things on giant springs. They had pushchairs and they handed out coloured beakers of juice, rice cakes and rusks. Their children all had squashy nappy-bottoms, bare feet with toes curled towards their own heels like monkey paws, and wrists so fat they looked like they had elastic bands around them.

And it all felt so familiar. Not years behind me. It's a stage that's gone like lightening.

I suppose that other (crazier) women feel all this and decide to have just one more baby. Or get a puppy. Instead, I'll try to concentrate on some of the things I enjoy that aren't connected to me being a mother - like the writing.
More and more, it's time to get on with it - and find out how far I can go.

Oh yeah...I made coloured Cookie Monster cakes for the school fair!
(because part of me will always heart the mum-stuff!)

2 comments:

  1. You'll always be a mum, Helen. I can relate to these feelings so well, moving on, new chapters whatever you want to call them can be hard but also exciting with new challenges. Having two girls, 19 and nearly 18 (crikey I must be old!) husband and I sometimes feel like a spare part in our own home but it also means we get the chance to have the occasional weekend away on our own. We thought we better get used to just the two of us again! The girls are coming on holiday with us for a week in the summer but thing is now eldest brings a boyfriend! Oh for those toddler days when you could have (some) control! Enjoy all the end of stuff festivities x

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  2. Oh God - 18 and 19!!!
    That used to seem so old, but I can see it coming already!
    AARGH - I'M PRACTICALLY DEAD!

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