The last day of preschool

I kind of can’t believe it…my Wee Man is now no longer a preschooler.

Walking to pick him up, I actually found myself a little bit close to tears, thinking how big he’s getting. I don’t think it had really sunk in for him when I arrived – he came running out of the door with a huge smile on his face, holding up the photo that’s been above his peg for the last three terms.

‘Look Mummy, I’ve got my picture!’

‘Yes’ I said ‘because this is the last day of preschool ever, isn’t it! Next term, you’ll be at big school’.

His teacher came to give him a hug, and then suddenly his shoulders slumped and he looked all sad – just like the empty, echoing classroom behind him that had been stripped of all artwork, all the displays, all trace that the Wee Man was ever there.

Arriving home, he suddenly got very disruptive – picking up the paddling pool and chucking water everywhere, flailing around kicking and squealing, and then finally biting me.

I think now it has sunk in a bit more, he’s suddenly got nervous. He’s still excited, sure, but nervous too of the big unknown.

I can’t say I blame him. I kind of feel the same way.