“Sleep five minutes,” my son says as he does most nights. And we relent because it’s a small gesture that brings us all joy – even when sometimes dinner is in the midst of being made, other children are still awake, life is calling, as it always does. But those five minutes (usually 10) bring my husband and I respite in a busy evening.
So I lie next to him for a bit. There’s a faint smell of biscuits on his fingers. His body so small, lies quietly next to mine. But he isn’t so small any more. He’s a “big boy” going to “big school”. In fact, tomorrow will be his first day at school.
This day that I’d been looking forward to almost from the day he was born is finally here. When I had him, my third child, I couldn’t imagine a time when he would be joining his older siblings at school and I would once again get five days a week back to myself (well at least between the hours of 9am to 3pm). And yes some days were slow, but of course the years are fast and now here he was about to embark on his school life.
It felt like only yesterday I was holding him as a newborn and now as I lie next to him - my youngest, littlest child - I realise I am not as excited about him starting school as I thought I’d be all those years ago.
A part of me will miss our lazy days in the park, catch-up with friends for coffees and babycinos, having a day stretch out before us where we had no plans
A part of me will miss our lazy days in the park, catch-up with friends for coffees and babycinos, having a day stretch out before us where we had no plans. But it’s not just that, while my son will be graduating from being a pre-schooler to a schoolboy, I will also be graduating - going from that exhausting but exhilarating phase of having a baby and then toddler, to being a mother of all school-aged children.
It’s an interesting point to be in and I can’t imagine what it would be like to finally have a moment to breathe. I’ve been so caught up in the hectic life of having three young children for over a decade, it will seem strange to just stop for a coffee.
Then there is the matter of my career, which over the years has gone through many ups and downs. Work has until now been something that for the most part I did on the side while I primarily focussed on my children. And while my children will always be my primary concern, I now find myself at a point where I need to figure out what it is I want to do with myself. I’m lucky because freelancing has allowed me to keep a few different aspects of my writing career going, but now perhaps it was time to focus on what part of my writing do I wanted to do full-time.
I knew the reality of what having school aged children, especially ones at kindy meant. It didn’t mean less work as a parent. If anything, it probably meant more
But perhaps on this last day before he started school, sentimentality was getting the better of me, because I knew the reality of what having school aged children, especially ones at kindy meant. It didn’t mean less work as a parent. If anything, it probably meant more.
Friends have confirmed this. I’ve turned to a number of women over the past few months who have all of their children at school and asked, has it been different? Have you enjoyed the freedom? They’ve all given me that same weary expression and said 'no’. I know as much as them how the hours between 9am and 3pm seem to fly. How it seems you are just dropping the kids off to school before having to rush over and pick them up. Then there is the homework, and the sporting activities, and play dates with new friends. Thoughts of career, as it often does with women especially, seem to fall to the wayside as a different type of busy-ness takes hold – that of being a taxi driver, a tutor, a confidante and counsellor, oh and not to mention still be a parent who has to feed, clothe, shop, cook and clean.
While I can see the tidal wave of this new life as my son begins to fall into the rhythm of his new school life, I also want to take a moment to pause and reflect on what it is that I want to do. What it is that I want my focus to be on, because I know as they grow older they will rely on me less.
And so as I lie next to my son, I decide it’s OK if this moment stretches out beyond five, 10, maybe even 20 minutes. Life tends to pass us by so quickly, it’s good for us to pause. I know he won’t always want me to lie next to him as he falls asleep, so while he does I’m going to take advantage of it and breathe in his biscuit-y smell.
