When I was little and used to see my older brother and sister going to school every day I just couldn’t wait to start too. I had a small satchel which I would fill with color pencils and say “I want to go to ‘cool”. The nursery was right next to the primary school building where my brother and sister went. I don’t remember much about the first day except that my big sister popped in to check on me.
When my father came to pick us up, he picked up the older two and was driving out when they realized they had forgotten me behind! My father told me later that I somehow knew that I had been forgotten and I told everybody off when they came to pick me. I don’t know if this was exaggerated as I have no memory of that. Apparently I used to tell people off when I was little.
My son’s first day of nursery was nothing like that. They start the first week with just a few hours and then if the child is doing well they expand to full timings. Sometimes the mothers are asked to stay at the school if their child is crying a lot and some even have to sit in class.
Since my son was perfectly happy to go I was told to drop him and check in on him two hours later. When I came in, I got thumbs up from the teacher and told that he was doing fine and that I should come at the end of the day.
When I came to pick him up he had apparently been having so much fun that he didn’t want to come back. He clung to the assistant and refused to come to me! It was so embarrassing, but at the same time I was relieved that he didn’t cry without me.
I wrote this poem about my son’s first year at nursery and the principal published it in her monthly newsletter:
Nadir started nursery last year
To learn a thing or two
Away from his mother
Five hours straight through.
To begin with, quiet was he
Not living up to his potential,
More social he had to be
Said his school principal.
With time he became more sure,
And learnt to make friends,
Colors, shapes, numbers and more,
Hard work paid dividends.
His love of books was nurtured
All day he talked no end,
Working with his hands he preferred,
Anastasia became his best friend.
Another year is about to start,
New friends and things to learn,
Books, music, crafts and art,
And a whole lot of fun!
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