Tag Archives: Pre school

The Twins Have Started School

The twins have started school and I have mixed feelings about it (they don’t, by the way, they hate it).

I am relieved that they are now out of the house for a few hours, but, I miss them terribly. I am so used to waking up to their combined chatter, non-stop from the time they wake up, to the time they can’t fight sleep anymore and flop down in the night, that now the mornings seem empty and quiet.

Also, I have a confession to make. I cannot take their crying and yelling, as the teachers take them away from me at the school gate. I can hear them (the younger twin especially) pleading for me, and I cave. Yes, I cry. I feel silly, of course, but that does not stop the tears – they keep rolling down and I find it hard to swallow that lump in my throat (it’s coming back now with the memory of that parting)

I dread the mornings, when I have to drop them to school; when I try and create an artificially lively environment in the car by singing and talking about some irrelevant topic as a distraction method. I put on nursery rhymes and ask them to sing along. Needless to say, my completely transparent efforts are met with stoic silence from my otherwise chirpy twins. They look at me with sad eyes and declare that they don’t like school. It makes me want to turn back and take them home. Clearly, my nerves are not exactly made of steel, to put it mildly.

I called my mum when I was at school the other day. She understood, of course, but then she asked me how I’d feel when they’d grow up and go away. I could not imagine it. I don’t like to think of myself as a clingy mother, and I always thought I’d have the strength to let my children go, but now I am having serious doubts on any such abilities I thought I may have had. (God bless my kids!)

These years will pass I know. They’ll pass too soon says my mother, I guess from experience. If she could, she would summon Well’s Time Traveller and go back in time, to when we were little. She does not understand why I want to do just the reverse, to get propelled into the future! I see her point now, though. I cannot imagine how it will be to be old; to see my kids only once in a while; to call them and be told that they were busy- that they would call me back. In theory I know that’s how it will be, but when we are actually there, it’s not like all this reflection would help the reality.

Anyway, I digress. Didn’t mean to write all this. I meant to just pour out some feelings about my “separation anxiety” in child psychology parlance (except that in my case both the kids and the mother suffer from it!!)

I know they’ll settle and I can start to make use of my time. It’s a milestone and I am not sure how I feel about it. When I picked them up from school today, the younger one said “mama, I like home”..

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A Smile On My Lips, And A Tear In My Eye.

My daughter started pre-school last week. She cried, of course, and I felt terrible when she clung and didn’t want me to leave. I told the teacher that I would stay till she was a little settled, and I know what the debate on that is – that they don’t settle till they can see the mother, and there’s truth in that, but, I still knew it was not going to do her any good if I left her crying like that in the first week. Each child is different and I know that in her case she needs to feel a little secure before she likes anyplace, otherwise she develops an aversion. I wanted to give her the security that I was not leaving her there. So, I was the only (or one of the only) mother sitting inside with a child, not that that bothered me in the least. She looked at me and said “mama, don’t leave me here”. I promised I would not till she liked it.

I think it worked. The first week I went in with her and the next I would go in, like all the other mothers, but leave in about ten minutes- never slipping out, but telling her that I was going to be waiting outside, so she need not worry. She cried for a few minutes, of course, but not in the hysterical fashion she had done before. I told her that I’d be right there and take her home in a few hours.  Somehow that worked. She was alright without me inside, maybe because she knew that I was around, or maybe not. I don’t know what worked, and I also know that part of it is cyclical, she’ll probably still cry sometimes.

But the thing is that she’s aware of the fact that now she has to do this, and I am not sure she loves it yet, but she likes her teachers, which is good.

The first day she put her little Dora bag on her back and walked away, I smiled and yes there was that silly lump, don’t know where it came from, but there it was in my throat. She looked back at me and smiled, told me she had just spotted a little Tellytubby doll.

She’ll probably learn to let go soon. Now, I have to do the same.

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Tomorrow’s A Big Day..

I’ve decided to put my daughter into play school from July, she’ll be almost two and a half by then. And tomorrow is her “interaction” at this big school that has a playgroup too, so if she makes it, I don’t have to worry about admission later, since she’ll be able to continue here to senior school. And this is a much much coveted one.

The trouble is that she hates the mention of the word. A lot of kids do, I know, but in her case, she wails and wails making vomiting sounds and all those accompanying histrionics that make you feel like some sort of a devil.

So I’ve been spelling words out around the house and using euphemisms so she’d not get it. Told the maid to get everything ready in the morning etc. Before going to bed, the monster comes to me and says:

Monster: “Mama I am not going to school

Me: “Who said anything about school?

Monster: “School is fun and babies dance there, but I am not going

Me:”Who told you about going to school” I ruffle her hair.

Monster: “You took out my nice dress. I won’t wear it.

Sigh. Tomorrow is going to be tough. She’ll figure it out as soon as I try and get her ready and once there, she’ll try anything to make me leave the place, will not respond to anything that she’ll be asked, worse, will say the opposite if asked too many times!

The father’s away, so am doing this alone. Fingers crossed.

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