Yesterday was Max's first day at school. He sailed in without a backward glance. He is only doing half days this week so he came home for lunch and then celebrated in the garden by tormenting - sorry cuddling - Elwood and covering his new sweatshirt in orange hair.
It was also Maddie's first day at pre-school, albeit with me in tow. Like her brother, she breezed through it and enjoyed painting, playing at cooking and playing in the nursery garden. The separation begins on Friday when I am allowed, maybe, to leave her there for an hour or so.
And lest we forget, it was also Dominic's first day in Year 2. All signs are excellent and he already loves his teacher, is full of information about his topic and has now put on his uniform without being shouted at for two days in a row.
Today, Max has been a little more tired by the whole experience. It made me think some more about his first swimming lesson which he had on Saturday. Although the other kids had all been there far longer than him, he was desperate to be the first to do a length in his arm bands - to the point where he could hardly go in a straight line because he was so busy looking around to suss out what the opposition was doing. If, as I imagine, he has taken this attitude into the classroom, I predict complete exhaustion before the week is out.
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