It is A’s last few months at primary school. I have fluctuating emotions about this. For some reasons I am relieved and cannot wait for this chapter to close. For other reasons I feel a bit sad.
I am relieved that she will be moving on to pastures new with (hopefully) new friends to make and new things to learn. I am relieved that she will be able to see that there is life outside of our village and her very limited circle of friends. I am excited for her and for the next part of her life and all that it will bring – some of it will no doubt be difficult but hopefully it will mostly be good.
But I found myself watching her do the May Pole dancing at the May Fair on Monday and was a bit sad that it is the last time that she will do it. I won’t be sad not to have to stand in the freezing cold watching her, but it is the last time. It is the last time that she will be in the procession. I have pictures of her in various costumes over the years and this last year she was an attendant to the May Queen so was dressed in a pretty dress and had her hair and makeup done looking all lovely. It is sad that it was the last time.
There will be many more lasts as the months go on. Last assembly, last sports day, last report, to name a few. I stopped walking to and from school with her a few months ago as you know, but I even have mixed emotions about never having to go there again. Part of me wants to fist-pump the air and another part of me is just a little bit wistful about all the years that I have spent in the playground, with some happy and not so happy memories for both of the children. The school was a good fit for my kids – and for me to some extent, managing to keep that fine line between knowing enough people to feel happy waiting in the playground and not knowing too many people that everyone knows your business (not that I do anything of any interest to be spoken of). But I won’t miss certain things: hour-long assemblies with a never ending stream of certificates to be handed out; sports day; waiting in the playground in the rain for them to emerge from their classrooms, wondering what sort of day they have had.
Next week, A will sit her SAT’s. She is nervous but I think I have done a good enough job on the encouragement front. The old “you can only do your best” favourite line has made a few appearances along with the “it’s not you they’re testing really, it’s more about the school” b******t.
And then it will start. The start of the end of primary school life.