Hold my hand

Boy holding hand 22 Feb 2016

My little boy likes routine. Like most of us he likes familiarity. There’s comfort in that.

He’s just started “Big School” at the tender age of 5. He’s ready though, just ask him, make no mistake. It’s daunting however…. he’s gone from a playgroup of 20 plus kids to a school with a couple of hundred kids. He’s gone from a small converted house to a huge sprawling collection of buildings. He’s gone from a place where he was one of the older kids to a place where he is the youngest kid and very nearly the smallest….

We are 3 weeks in but the walks to school are still very quite or one way conversations. He’s thinking about the next 10 minutes. He’s unsure what to expect when he walks through the gates. He’s unsure what the rules are in the playground.

For me, the walk to school is the highlight of the day. I get to hold his hand.  Something I hold so very dear. I know one day he won’t want to hold my hand.

He pops his bag on the hook, looking to see if his buddies, Connor, Hiro or George have already hung theirs up. He sees that 2 out of the 3 are in and I suspect it calms him slightly but he doesn’t say anything. We walk to the playground still hand in hand. Sienna, Zinzan and Harry, some older kids that he knows from previous encounters, run over and say hi. Do you want to play they ask. He stands there, holds my hand extra firmly and looks through them, they eventually run off without him.

I sit, he stands very close and looks around. I ask if he wants to play and that I’ll stay right here. He declines and makes sure his leg is touching mine. Then at 9.25am the music starts which signifies the start of school. For him, it must be the most magical sound. A large grin spreads across his face and he throws his arms around me. This is followed by a huge kiss and he runs off to line up in front of his teacher.

He sits cross legged in front of his teacher, all the kids lined up one by one. I make sure I move to the back, behind all the new parents standing around waving at their darling kids, so I can play our little game.  The only way he can see me is by looking through the legs of the other mums and dads. I must impersonate a crouching tiger and get low. When I’m low enough I catch his now big bright sparkling eyes. I mouth to him “May the force be with you” to which he mouths back “And also with you”. He couldn’t be happier.

With that Ms. Black, his larger than life teacher, stands them up and marches them to class. He looks back once and then twice. With a quick smile and a wave he skips off. Not a care in the world. All fears gone. The 9.25am music represented the start of the routine.

My little boy likes routine. Like most of us he likes familiarity. There’s comfort in that.

Author: AJ

An individual who has started to work out what life should be about. An individual taking steps. An individual sharing observations and learnings. Want to jump with this individual?

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