The week that was - the Stuntman's first week at Kindy

It was ‘ back to school’ week for my littlies this week, with the Stuntman heading off to the same daycare as Little Miss for the first time. He’s been cared for by family members on a regular basis for most of last year while I worked, but he’s never gone to a big daycare centre before, so it’s been a big week for everyone. 

A bright and cheerful kindy room :)

I’ve been experiencing a rollercoaster of emotions all week at the thought of my darling baby boy heading out into the big bad world without me. I called the kindy several times a day to check in on him, and would tear up and have to run to the bathroom at work whenever I thought of his sweet little face searching the room for me. Oh gawd, now I’m tearing up writing this!

During one check-in phone call his carer told me that whenever Little Miss came into the toddler room (she’s in the pre-school room), the Stuntman would grab hold of her and give her a big squeezy cuddle, not wanting to let her go. The carers would have to eventually prise them apart to go to their separate rooms. I’m sure the daycare teacher thought I’d be happy to hear that story, but it actually sent me back to the bathroom for another weep. I’m a sook, I know.

He’s made a surprisingly good transition to the centre, playing nicely with the other kids, going down for a sleep without much protesting, and only a few teary episodes throughout the day (probably less than me if I’m being honest!). Due to his food intolerances, the kindy provides a special allergy-friendly meal for his lunch, but so far he hasn’t been willing to try it, so I’ve been sending along a sandwich for him (on his special soy-flour-free bread) so that at least he’s eating something. Hopefully next week when he’s feeling a bit more secure he’ll be willing to try the prepared meals.

While he’s been pretty much fine at the kindy, at home he’s been a clingy little monster; screeching to be picked up whenever I’m around, wanting boobies all the time, and waking up screaming several times a night. These are all pretty classic separation anxiety signs I guess, which is not really surprising. I’ve been trying to be as patient with him as I possibly can be, but what with the lack of sleep, the constant whingeing, and the aching back from lugging him around everywhere, I’ve been a bit of a grumpy mum this week.

Due to our work schedules, I generally do the kindy drop-off, and Mr McD does the pick-up.  I’ve been feeling like I’ve been missing out on the fun part, but today I got to do both ends of the day, and to tell you the truth, the pick-up wasn’t all I’d imagined it to be! I had a mental picture of both kids running towards me, arms outstretched, so excited to see their mummy, but this was pretty far removed from the reality of it. 

When I walked through the door, Little Miss caught sight of me first and ran up squealing “Mummy, Mummy!!” (all good so far), then grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the art corner where she had some new creations to show me. The Stuntman clocked that I was there at this point, raced over and grabbed my other arm and started pulling me in the opposite direction, also squealing “Mummy, Mummy”, but more upset than excited. He then started trying to climb up my leg, saying “Up, up, boo boo, mine”, while Little Miss was still trying to pull me across the room. 

At this point I overbalanced and toppled onto the ground, almost squashing Little Miss, and pulling the Stuntman down on top of me. Luckily, he’s like a cat and always lands on his feet. Me, not so much; I landed squarely on my arse. Fortunately it’s well padded ;)

The young daycare teacher raced over to see if I was OK, and, much to my humiliation, tears welled up in my eyes. One even ran down my cheek. OMG - why was I crying?? No idea. The poor girl was really worried I’d hurt myself, but I think it was just the shock of falling, and the fact that my emotions have been on such high alert all week. I just couldn’t keep my game face on. That coupled with mega embarrassment just sent me over the edge.

The Stuntman couldn’t have cared less about my predicament, and actually tried to yank down my top while I was prostrate on the floor, in an attempt to help himself to the boobies. While I was trying to haul myself up off the filthy, sticky kindy floor (in black trousers no less), my handbag fell off my shoulder, sending my phone, wallet and multiple lip balms flying across the room. It must’ve been quite a sight for the other mums and dads who were picking up their kiddies.

You can always count on me for some light comic relief.

I eventually managed to sign the kids out, collect both sets of bags, water bottles, hats and artworks without falling over again or dropping anything, and we made it back home in one piece. The kids must’ve sensed I was right on the edge when we got home, as they played beautifully together, ate their dinner without any fuss, and went off to bed like little angels. Small mercies.

I will definitely be leaving the pick-ups to Mr McD from now on!

Any back to school/kindy stories for you this week?