It’s hard to believe that it was a year ago that we were all chucking buckets of water over each other in the worldwide charity bid to raise money through the Ice Bucket Challenge.
Once our news feeds dried off the last few droplets of icy water, in its stead were dozens of first day of school pictures.
I remember every detail of that time so clearly. Why? Because last year, my daughter Amelia Rose, embarked on one of the biggest adventures of a child’s young life – she started junior infants.
The past year has flown by in a whirlwind of school plays, packed lunches, sports days, homework, fundraisers, arts, crafts, playdates, birthday parties and a whole lot of fun.
And now, it’s time for Amelia to go into Senior Infants. I marvel at how quickly the year has buzzed by. I marvel at how much she’s grown since that first morning when I waved her goodbye, with her little pigtails swinging behind her. And she’s not just grown in size, which incidentally jumped up by over an inch this summer. With every word she utters, I get a window into the young woman she will become.
Once again, much excitement surrounds her first day of this new school year. There’s been a lot of detailed planning, on both Amelia’s and my part on all of the important things – uniform, school bags, pencil cases, pencils, lunch boxes, hair accessories (pigtails or ponytail or loose?) and shoes. She is excited to go back and the importance of no longer being the youngest class in the school is not lost on her. She awakes most mornings asking me, ‘how many more sleeps Mummy?’
While Amelia is more than ready for today, I’m struggling somewhat. And I’ve been asking myself why is that? What is it about the first day of school that renders so many of us parents into blubbering wrecks?
So many emotions assault me – happiness, nostalgia, anxiety, awe and pride all mixed together into a potpourri of nervous anticipation. You see, time is going way too fast and as I look at my beautiful daughter, I cannot fathom how quickly the time has gone since she was a tiny newborn.
First smile, first tooth, first crawl and then first wobbly walk. So many firsts. She still sneaks into our bed during the night and I’m grateful for her warm snuggles. I know that all too soon she will no longer need those nighttime cuddles and will sleep all night without waking. For now, I’m happy to give up half our bed for her sprawling legs and arms, in return for that first kiss and smile that awaits me when I open my eyes.
Last year, we walked to school hand in hand. And I watched her walk into school each morning, one of the last mothers to leave the school yard. I made a vow that I’d stay every day, as long as she needed me there. And for the first eight months, every day, she would wave as she walked into the school, her eyes seeking me out and then a smile, enveloping her pretty face, when she found me. But, in the last few weeks of junior infants, there was a shift. She skipped off each morning, biting at the bit, eager to explore her new independence. She didn’t need me quite as much as she had on that first day. And of course, that’s the way it should be.
My guess, is that she’ll need me less this year. My gentle little girl, is growing up.
And I know that every first day in a new school year, is another milestone ticked off in our little girls journey into adulthood.
I’ll watch her closely, to check for any signs of anxiety or fear, but also to imprint forevermore the image of these days into my memory bank. I don’t want to forget the excitement and happiness I see pouring from her little face.
Her excitement as she hangs her coat and bag up on her peg and sits down at her desk, jubliantly recognising her name on the table. Her laughter as she reconnects with school friends. Her awe as she meets her new teacher. Her pride, as she learns something new, creates something wonderful.
Amelia Rose, loving, compassionate, kind, gentle, creative, mischievous and quick witted.
That there is my daughter.
My wish for her this year, is the same as it was last year. I want her to be happy. I want her to be fearless. I want her to know that bullies can be defeated. I want her to know that she can find strength in not following the crowd. I want her to always stand tall and fight for what she believes in. I want her to have fun.
My gentle little warrior.
Carmel Harrington’s new novel, Every Time A Bell Rings, will be out on 15th October hyperurl.co/zcdk9t
