Today is T’s last day at nursery. His last day. How did that happen? I remember viewing his nursery and getting butterflies in my stomach. It was perfect, and the people were perfect. He then started just before his first birthday (as he decided to arrive late and my maternity leave ended just before his birthday) and what followed was the most wonderful three and a bit years.
Nursery was like a second home and the people like an extended family. They changed countless nappies, saw some of his first steps (maybe even his first, but they never told us!) and watched him as he weaned. They cuddled him when he fell and taught him so many amazing things, and for that I am eternally grateful.
I remember his first day like it was yesterday. He was so small. He was “still” breastfeeding and he was barely crawling – Chubby McSitstill I used to call him. He didn’t start walking until he was 15 months – something that staff were equally over as overjoyed about as we were. Anyway, I digress. I don’t need to fall down that memory wormhole.
So, despite T being so ready for school and feeling incredibly excited about starting next week, why does it feel like one massive goodbye?