Today is Climber's last day of his first year at school. He's no longer a little Prep kid.
Next year he will be in Grade 1K. For the second year running, he will have a male teacher - our school appears to have more than its fair share of male teachers. It's great for the Climber's grade, anyway, because the boys outnumber the girls 2 to 1. I like the mix of kids he has in his new class (those that I know). They've shuffled the existing 3 prep classes into different groupings. His latest girlfriend,
Angelina, is in his class - cuddle? My biggest beef is that a large proportion of the parents
I got really friendly with will no longer be in
my class. It's
not fair.
I think a little year in review is in order.
When Climber started school I cried. Like a great big sook. Look at me.
Not only was Fixit comforting me as I tried to hold back tears but so did another parent, our new teacher
and the School Principal.
Although Climber is one of the youngest in the class, he was ready for school. He's a nice kid, sociable, articulate, mature, and I cried not because I feared for him (though of course I did a bit) but because I had to
let him go. He's my baby, my first-born, and sending him off to let others shape him was hard on that first day. And then,
not hard after that, because he goes to a lovely school, he had a fantastic teacher, and like I said, he was ready.
This is us arriving at the school on the first morning.
This is Climber with Tim in the class on the first day. Totally at home, ready to settle in.
We'd sent Tim a letter in the holidays.
When we arrived in the classroom, it was displayed on the whiteboard and Tim read it out to the class and Climber felt so proud.
When I picked him up at home-time, he ran straight to the monkey bars.
I asked how his first day went.
Well I didn't learn to read, he said.
But I did lose my drink-bottle.
However, in the course of this year, he
did learn to read. Which is just the
best thing. Fixit and I got so much enjoyment from watching him progress through the levels. At first he found it hard work. He has perfectionist tendencies, so if he fears he'll get it wrong he's hesitant to try. But Tim saw this and guided him through it. And suddenly one day the penny dropped and instead of labouring through each word, he was
reading! What an amazing, beautiful process it was.
And he learned so much else of course. Turns out he's very good at maths. And he maintained his passion for art. Sometimes he just talks a bit of Italian at home, just 'cos he likes it. He made friends, we had play-dates, he learned new tricks on the monkey-bars. He went in a
concert which made this stage mother just about want to burst with pride. There was
Pyjama day. He lost his first
tooth.
We had a great year.
And now here he is at the end of his first year of school.
With Tim at the end-of-year party in the park...
... where we gave Tim another letter.
Of course he played on the monkey bars on his last day, with some of his friends.
And if you could see me as I write this you would see I'm crying again!! You've come a long way, baby.
Fixit is home safe and sound. He saw the fire-fighting helicopters filling up with water which he said was amazing.
