Starting school

My husband Matt took the day off work, and as it was a 9.45am start we had a leisurely breakfast before I went upstairs and helped get Sofia into her uniform: a real rite of passage.  We came back down and had a little photo shoot (obviously I did the obligatory posting onto Facebook).

The five of us went up to the school and were personally greeted by the Deputy Head a couple of minutes early (we were a little eager!). I hadn’t realised that each child had a designated slot, so it was a nice surprise to have this time dedicated to us. We were escorted to the cloakroom, given a run through of what she needed to do and were then taken to Sofia’s class and delivered to her teacher. Sofia’s teacher immediately introduced her to the morning routine, had a few comforting words to say to us, and then that was it, we said goodbye. It was a slick operation but carried out in a very compassionate manner.  I had absolutely no worries about leaving her.

First morning

The four of us then headed straight off to go and check out a venue for Sofia’s next birthday party. Her birthday isn’t until December, but last year taught me that forward planning is key Planning a child’s birthday party.

We had to run a few errands so didn’t bother going back home as it was a 12pm pick up.  In no time at all we were on our way back to collect her.

Semi-disaster struck; we were five minutes from the school at a very busy crossroads and the traffic lights were out. It was chaos. I ended up queued outside of the classroom door at 12.02pm. The children were still coming out one by one as I got there so Sofia wasn’t sat on her own. However, she was the last one to be collected #FAIL. I felt really terrible. Matt thought I was insane.

Second day

We needed to be at the school for 8.50am. Once again it was a 12pm pick up, so a nice gentle start. My dad’s been brilliant. He comes over in the mornings to sit with the twins whilst I walk Sofia to school. It takes a lot of the stress out of it.

However, I still seemed to panic on Monday morning. There was no designated slot, going in via the office in our little bubble for a lovely meet and greet. Instead it was the bun fight of the school run. I didn’t know what gate to queue up at and what the protocol was. I was stressing so much that we left very early. We were second out of the entire school at the gate. I asked the lady in front what the procedure was. She was with her grandson and had no idea. A kindly mum behind overheard and said that the other gate was best for Sofia’s class. Phew. I knew what we were doing and no longer felt like the ‘new girl’.

At 8.50am someone came out and unlocked the gate. There was a semblance of politeness. However, we were all chomping at the bit to get in and to the cloakroom. It was pandemonium. I looked at the narrow, single door opening and breathed a massive sigh of relief that I didn’t have the double buggy with me.

Three days in

I’m actually feeling slightly overawed and it’s not about Sofia settling in; she’s taken to it like the proverbial duck.

I didn’t get the memo about bringing in photos from their summer holidays, so I did emergency printouts and then spent an evening labelling and sticky back plastic-ing.

On Sofia’s first day, I received a letter about the first PTA meeting, which is this Thursday, and another letter about Jeans for Genes day this Friday (must remember no uniform). Then there’s a reading meeting next week.

Today I received the September newsletter, which includes all of the important dates for the Autumn term and is two pages long: meetings, assemblies, quiz nights, costumes to be made, harvest festival; and don’t even get started on the Christmas activities. I’ve just spent over half an hour putting everything on the calendar. Then there was the NHS questionnaire.

My head is spinning!

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