Just 3 days. That’s all it would have taken for things to be looking quite different around here now.
My Little Man was born on the 3rd September. He will be four years old in a couple of weeks time and is so looking forward to his birthday, his Avengers birthday cake and a trip to the seaside. I can’t believe he’ll be four and as I look back over the year, it’s been wonderful to see him grow so much.
This time last year I remember having play dates where as soon as friends arrived, my son would run to me in tears, ask to be picked up and cling to me. I look at him now and he amazes me by how far he has come in just one year. He’s now racing his sister to the door to welcome any and all visitors, even if it’s just the food shopping!
You may recall that he struggled to settle into nursery. He was clearly not ready to go a year ago and so I deferred his start to this January. He was ready, but I doubted my decision when he kicked and screamed all through that first month at drop-offs. Yet now, there are no tears. He’d still rather be at home every day and moans about going, but he’s calmer there. He has made friends there and his confidence grows with every passing week.
He is growing up, he is becoming more comfortable in unfamiliar situations, he is enjoying the company of his peers more. He’s recently asked to go to football classes, another new experience for him, and whilst he remains the only child there whose dad has to get involved in the class, he is doing it. He surprised me on a recent outing when he rushed off to get involved with a group of children in an activity, barely a backward glance and leaving his sister behind.
My son has always been a daredevil, in that way his confidence knows no bounds. Take him to soft play or a playground and he’s gone within seconds, so he’s not all that shy. It’s around new people, groups of strangers, that he is unsure. But he’s getting better, so much better.
Yet I cannot help but breathe a sigh of relief that he was born on the 3rd September. If he’d made his way into the world just 3 days earlier he’d be starting school in two weeks time. I know for some, they would be ready. My daughter’s birthday is early October and she would probably have been fine starting school a full year earlier than she did. But my Little Man is not ready, not as ready as I’d want him to be.
Over the coming months I’d like him to get a few of the basics mastered, numbers and phonics and so on. Not because I want to push him, but because I want him to not have to worry too much about the work in that first term, but to concentrate on adjusting to school life. To being away from home every day, away from me. To being surrounded by new people and the tiredness that I suspect these new adventures will bring.
When he does start school in September 2017, he will already be 5 years old, most probably the oldest in the class. Of course, he’ll still be my baby and I’ll still not want him to go, but he will be ready then. When I look at how far he’s come in just one year, I just know that he’s going to fly this coming year.
My Little Man. He makes me so proud.