An open letter to the new reception teacher in my life...

Dear Reception Teacher,

Today I hand over to you, my second son. My 4 year old baby. The one that will leave my proverbial nest ‘empty’. The more affectionate of my two… and the more difficult.

Here’s 10 things you should know about my boy… and that I apologise for.

1. He eats ALL THE TIME. Lots of snacks while he’s playing, or colouring, or watching a movie or playing in the garden. I don’t know how he’s going to cope with dedicated times in which he is allowed to eat. I forgot to teach him that, sorry.
2. He’s tactile. He loves to touch and stroke and cuddle. He chooses his own clothes by how nice the fabric feels on his skin first, and how cool they look second. If he feels sad, he will reach out for a hug. I forgot to help him not need that, sorry.
3. He’s the baby of our family and he’s not happy with that position in life. His goal everyday is to prove to everyone that he is as big and capable as his older brother and sometimes he struggles with the reality of that. I forgot to tell him to toughen up, sorry.
4. He’s emotional. He wears his heart on his sleeve and his temper is quick and furious. He can go from saint to terrorist in 2 seconds flat and I forgot to train him out of that, sorry.
5. Sometimes he has trouble wiping his own bum. Sorry.
6. He’s a talker. Day and night. While he sleeps. While he eats. When you are trying to concentrate on something else. During a movie. Underwater. And especially while you’re on the phone. I forgot to teach him to shut up, sorry.
7. He has his own mind and he follows the beat of his own drum, which is often a very different beat to anyone else’s. I forgot to teach him to conform, sorry.
8. He’s not into sports. He likes karate. He likes drawing. He likes to play dress-ups and build imaginary forts. He loves to sing really loud. He doesn’t like to sit still. He doesn’t like to be quiet. He wants to do everything himself. I forgot to teach him to fit in, sorry.
9. He wants to be a dad when he grows up. I forgot to teach him to aspire to great things, sorry.
10. He will take a special place in your heart forever. Sorry.

My last day of kindy

Stefan had his last day at kindy yesterday. It was both an exhilarating and sad day for me. I have always said that I love watching my babies grow. I love every new stage in their development and lives. I love the people they are becoming, so I am not really sad when they reach their milestones [as many other mums are with their babies]. I’m excited and proud. In fact I have been so excited about Stefan finishing kindy and embarking on his school career that I was taken aback when I found myself feeling quite sentimental about his last day. I wrote in a card to his teacher to thank her and it made me cry… just a little bit. Because it’s not just Stefan’s last day at kindy, but mine too. As I walked him out after his farewell presentation, it struck me that I would not return to this amazing place. This world of wonder and discovery and friendships and nurture. This world that helped shape my two boys.

There is a quote by Carl Jung on teachers that sums up how I feel, which I wrote in my card:

"An understanding heart is everything in a teacher, and cannot be esteemed highly enough. One looks back with appreciation to the brilliant teachers, but with gratitude to those who touched our human feeling. The curriculum is so much necessary raw material, but warmth is the vital element for the growing plant and for the soul of the child."

I’m fussy about where my kids spend their time and who they spend it with. I am fortunate that my personal circumstances have allowed me to spend their formative years with them as a full-time, stay at home mum and I am grateful that I have not been forced to put them into childcare due to financial and/or marital struggles. I know there are lots of mums who have also chosen childcare for their kids and that’s ok with me too. It’s just not the way I roll. So, other than a brief stint at Montessori, the teachers at kindy were the first non-family people that I have entrusted my sons to… which was a bit difficult. When young children are left with other people they learn, not only what they are taught, but what they observe. What they hear. What they absorb from those people and from that environment. So I’m fussy about the environments that I leave my kids in and I will forever be thankful for our kindy experience.

Because of the amazing teachers at kindy, my sons adjusted immediately to their new environment. Their friendships with other children there were observed and encouraged so that Nathan’s closest friends 3 years later are the ones he met at kindy. These relationships were considered so important that they make up part of their kindy ‘report card’. Because of the amazing teachers at kindy, I learned that Stefan leads with his left leg when he hops and that he enjoys all ball sports. The fact that he is ‘fit and agile’ is as important on his report as his ‘ability to write his own name’ and ‘precise cutting with scissors’.  They let him know that everything he learns is important – not just the academic stuff. 

Because of the amazing teachers at kindy, Stefan knows that it’s ok to choose an activity less popular than the majority vote and is congratulated for his independent thinking. So he feels confident to stand apart from the crowd. Because of the amazing teachers at kindy, I felt supported in my decision to allow Nathan to start school earlier than he should have, based on their insight into his academic and emotional maturity that I would not have learned about him so quickly. Because of the amazing teachers at kindy, I have learned that, even away from mum’s watchful eye, my sons are kind, respectful, funny, confident, smart, creative, fit, capable and ready for what the world has in store in them.

I take my job as a mum seriously and I have the greatest respect for the teachers at kindy who do too. I take my hat off to everyone who touched my children’s hearts during the beginning of their educational journey. 

I couldn’t have prepared them better myself.