There are all sorts of things I could be saying here today (wherefore art thou January, for example) but what I really need to tell you is that my firstborn - who has been 12 years old for a mere week - started High School today.
We rode our bikes to school and when I left him there with another kid he knew, he was looking really stressed and was focussing on finding a place to lock up his bike. As Cherub and I rode away together to his familiar, and by comparison, little, primary school, the memory of Climber's evident tension and the reality of my own became too overwhelming and stupid tears started to leak out which lasted my whole ride back home too. Just consolidating my reputation as the Mother Who Cries, really...
Fig A. First Days of School in our house...
Also: Fig B. Crying at Climber's Graduation from Primary School...
and Fig C. Crying on Climber's last day of Primary School.
Of course, I am not sad he's going to High School - I think he'll have a fine time and do well, and I'm looking forward to seeing the young man he'll become. But I do get rather emotional and anxious at times of change, particularly where the kids are concerned. It's all right. I'll probably have it in control by the time they start University.
