The big one goes back to (pre)school

Parenting and life

Today was the first day back at preschool.

Up until 8.30 this morning, when I figured I would save my potential shame at the school gates and rang to check (providing much amusement to the person who answered the phone) I wasn’t 100% sure if it would be, having no recollection of being told the exact date, being unable to find any useful information online and no one else seeming to know either. But it was. Hurrah! I have missed you, preschool.

Predictably, as only ever happens when we have to be somewhere at a designated hour, the big one had to be woken up and dragged from her bed.

Fortunately she was excited about going to school and being allowed to play with Play Doh again, a feeling I’m sure will wear off in time, and put up no fight when asked to get up and dressed. So far so good.

I prepared her packed lunch; one of my very favourite activities.

Not fancying a whole-family supermarket outing and having left it too long to get my trusty Ocado delivery, I sent Doug shopping with a long list yesterday.

It had taken him over two hours to complete the shop, god only knows how, but it meant we were well prepared so at least I didn’t have to send her with a mouldy crust and a manky apple. By next week, I’m sure it’ll be business as usual.

Being our second year at Preschool, I no longer had the lunchbox fear; it isn’t the kind of place to send little passive aggressive notes if you send them in with a Nutella sandwich or a Jaffa Cake. Phew.

Not that I share my Nutella. Or my Jaffa Cakes; only yesterday I had a near death experience thanks to the sneaky Jaffa Cake that I shoved into my gob with such force I almost choked when someone entered the kitchen. It was only the dog.

Play Doh first day at preschool

Anyway, children wrangled, breakfast eaten and lunch packed, we set off with plenty of time to spare.

It’s only a short walk (naturally; it’s the primary reason we chose it) but the big one likes to take her scooter. Almost there and a bit out of practice over the summer, she stacked it and flew onto the ground with a sickening sound and a yelp. Despite a good hearty sob, apart from a very very mucky dress where it had been raining and the ground was thick with mud, she was shaken but unscathed.

Big one delivered to preschool and kissed goodbye, the small one and I then returned home, against his will, as he is quite keen to stay with his sister. I do hope he’s still as keen in January when he actually starts there.

Just four months to get through first. Four long, autumnal, increasingly dark and dismal months without so much as a morning a week with the childminder, as she just moved away (at least, I hope she did and it’s not just an excuse). I absolutely don’t know how we’re going to cope or how I’m going to keep up, but it is only four months. Just four months. We’ll be fine, right?

The small one decided he had ‘ran out of walking’ and whined all the way home.

When I gave in and picked him up he did a big poo. So, standard then.

Home and cleaned up, I thought why not keep the nappy off because he seemed very keen to use the potty (although he proclaimed he wanted to wee like daddy. My poor carpet). But not that keen, as he weed all over the floor and then for funsies coloured himself in with blue felt tip while I was out of the room making tea for the people who came to fit our new doors.

Anyway right now I have a cup of tea while he naps (a feat achieved not by me but by Doug) with over an hour until I expect to have to move, so I’m cheerful.


  1. Susan Mann 5 September 2017
  2. Fran Taylor 30 September 2017

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