Monday, 18 March 2013
It's all Happening Too Quickly
Many years ago when Jessie was a tiny Year 1 student and we were working hard to beat her thumb-sucking habit I promised her a day to ourselves if she could stop. Just her and me having a day alone, perhaps a town trip, a movie, some shopping. A great treat for a five year old whose three siblings constantly vied for attention. I would sit on her bed every night as she went to sleep, holding her left hand (the thumb she sucked) until she drifted off to sleep. It took her less than a week to beat the habit. But unfortunately 'our day' never eventuated.
This past Thursday, having dropped Wallace and Sally at school, Jess and I headed to town for her boarding school interview. Despite a fire alarm seeing us spend the first ten minutes huddled together with cleaners and cooks and other boarding staff out on Agnes Street, the remainder of the process ran smoothly. A very impressive reference from our school principal, a great report card and an older sister who's already making her mark at the school all helping. When asked if she has any special talents though, she was a little coy. No mention of her robot dance moves, ability to sing Helen Reddy's Delta Dawn and I Am Woman at great volume with minimal melody or her very special talent of transforming her brother from sensitive boy to the Incredible Hulk with a few quiet jibes.
After her interview, we lunched, shopped and made it home in time to collect Wallace and Sally from school.
It wasn't until much later in the day as we came out of a Spotlight store, I held her hand and said "Guess what, we're finally having our day". And so it was.
I'm again feeling the unsettling that comes with sending them off to school. Though Sarah has excelled, I can't deny I'm envious of all those who have their children home through these high school years. Next year there will be only two lunches to cut, and then the following year just one. Our state government's new education policy meaning I miss another year of my boy's life, as he heads off to boarding school for year seven.
Like pages blowing from a book in the wind, I feel they're all flying away from me.
Someone pass the tissues ... and that stiff drink.