Today the day came, the day my little man Harry, who’s now nearly taller than me moves on to the next chapter of his school life. The final day of primary school.
I’ve no idea how we got to this point so quickly, he is still in so many ways, my little boy. He will still slip his hand into mine as we walk down the street, he will still expect me to tuck him into bed at night and he still can’t sleep without his favourite blanket. In so many ways he remains my little boy.
Yet time stands still for no-one and it is time. Time for him to move to this next chapter of his school journey. Time to go and join the, ‘big kids,’ in secondary school.
I remember driving him to his first day at his gorgeous Childminders. Dropping him off and hoping that he would be happy and that he wouldn’t miss me too much. He was and he didn’t.
I remember picking him up at lunchtime for his first afternoon in nursery, in his little red tracksuit, and wondering how we’d arrived at this point so quickly. I wondered at how I now had to let go of a little of him, to let him make his own choices without me always being there. I hoped he’d have fun and make friends. He did both effortlessly.
I remember picking him up at lunchtime for his first afternoon in reception, him saying over and over again, ‘I am so ready for this!’ He was and again I wasn’t. I couldn’t believe we’d gotten to reception age so quickly and that again I had to let him go to be loved and cared for by someone new. I hoped he’d make friends, love learning, be happy and that he would always be able to tell us anything. He did.
I remember him leaving year two ready for juniors, wondering again how it was possible I now had a child ready for juniors. I hoped he’d always be happy, that he’d have a strong mind, that he’d be brave, loving and confident. He has been all this and so much more.
I write today as my son leaves primary school ready for his next big adventure, Secondary School. I know that he is ready in so many ways and that again, I am a little bit left behind. Not quite ready to begin this next stage yet. Not quite ready to let him go and be with the big kids, not quite ready for the teenage years. For the day he wont slip his hand into mine anymore. I’m not ready to know less about his day, or to not have a teacher to contact who knows and understand him almost as well as me.
But I have to be.
Because time slows for no-one.
He is ready, and as this year has proved to us more than any before, he will approach these changes with a sense of adventure, with optimism, with a strong and brave heart, with a zest for life.
And I hope for him again.
That he is happy.
That he finds friends who truly love him and understand him and ‘get him.’
That he is brave.
That he finds the gold in every day.
That he can talk to us about anything.
That he’s never too old to step in for a cuddle when the day has been tough.
That he finds strength in who he is and realises how incredible he is.
That he understands and knows in his heart how loved he is.
One more step along the world you go my darling Harry, we are with you cheering you on every step of the way.
If your not so little one is moving to seniors this year, why not join us over at Team Teen, the place where relationships are made with other parents to support you on the next phase of your parenting journey.
You would be so very welcome.