Last Monday was a first.
Yes, I know there are several firsts that you want to keep track of when you have a baby and I am ashamed to admit that I am thoroughly useless in that department. Like I haven’t documented when Re first turned, or smiled, or teethed, or ate, or walked or talked. All I know is that each time still feels like the first. Okay, I have a vague idea when they happened, but I was so ‘in the moment’ that I forgot to write it down. Hell, I forgot to start this blog till he was 16 months old!
Last Monday, the husband and I went for an orientation to the school that Re will be going to in six months. Six months! School!
I am already feeling Re’s babydom slipping away, and this morning, as I was talking to a friend whose child is in school and dealing with group dynamics (why x got a star and she didn’t), I began to wonder how little time I have for my baby to be a baby.
But something else stirred inside me that day, other than the OPU and me nodding at each other in unison at how much Re was going to enjoy what he was going to do at this school, because he already had a PhD in some of it (he doesn’t know that though).
As the teachers went about demonstrating materials and things they would use in play to teach language, arithmetic and other such, I was touched by the simplicity and the silence of the whole thing. I was also struck by a pang to go to school and start all over again. Just to learn in a way that is fun. Just so that I wouldn’t end up with a post graduation in pharmacy one day and then wonder what I had done with my student life. Just so it wouldn’t take me three decades to do what I loved doing at age seven.
I so want to go to that school.