so much better when she loses her brace. I gathered up her school bag,
packed her a lunch, and pushed her not to preschool but in the
opposite direction, to the school she calls alternately Big School and
Dubbledore, neither quite right but they'll do.
I pushed her into the classroom amidst stares from parents and
classmates alike, and then we hovered in the middle of the room,
unable to reach the carpet or the tables, she marooned in her huge
post-op wheelchair, me wanting to grab her and run for the safety of
Amongst the melée of parents and distraught excited children, she held
my hands and pulled me down. "Kiss me, Mummy. Bye bye, you pick me up
later you go now". Something tells me she'll be just fine.
I hope so. The parent pack I received last night informs me I need to
provide her with uniform, a book bag, PE kit and bag, all with school
logo on. Pricey but doable. Black shoes and Welly Boots in a string
bag, both trickier for my square footed child but not impossible. And
a double sided sheet for her to fill in by herself, with a space for
her to write her name (nope), draw a picture of her house (also not
going to happen), and a list of things for her to colour if she can do
them herself- put on socks, tie laces, go to the toilet, cut up food,
manage zips and buttons and a host of other independent skills. It's
going to be a very blank sheet.