School Mornings

Don't know where my text has disappeared to. I had typed about school mornings and how I enjoy taking my son each day.
I'm one of the few dads that's about to take their children to school. I might as well wear a sign saying I'm out of work and have nothing else to do with my time. I do enjoy it though. There's always an anxious wait for the bell to ring - I'm actually more anxious than my son. The children then go and line up, my son like a little soldier standing to attention. My son shows no fear. He's confident and happy to be there. But there is a boy in his class for whom every morning is a nightmare. He clings to his mum and sobs his heart out. She disappears into the classroom with him while the rest of us wave at our kids until they have disappeared into the darkness. For her it must be heartbreaking. It's upsetting to watch and I'm thankful that our son is the complete opposite.
As a youngster, I feared school. I would do all I could to stay at home. I do wish my son would befriend this little chap. Perhaps that would help him become more confident. Such a shame though.
My wife and I aren't part of the 'in crowd' so we don't drawn into the little clusters of parents that form in the playground each morning. They are friendly toward us but perhaps it's the fact we live in a different part of the street or we have a different type of house that sets us apart. There are one or two who do like to converse with us. We have such a short walk to and from the school that it isn't really possible to talk about anything substantial. But for the most part, we keep to ourselves and speak only if we're spoken to.
So weekday mornings are like this. I'm fortunate I suppose that being out of work does have this small benefit. I will certainly miss it if I ever do manage to return to work. I will miss the hand holding and the anticipation of what the day might hold. I will miss that father-son hug and the confidence of knowing that he went to school happy. But I know that all too soon, this opportunity will end and I will be in a car on the way to work or even worse, staring at a computer in an office. I simply don't know at the moment. For what I want to do seems as far away as ever and will need a miracle if it is ever to become reality.
For my son though, I suspect and hope that things will be different. He has the confidence I lacked and this will take him to great places. But before he begins that journey, he needs to be able to put his shoes on the right feet. It doesn't seem to bother him though... Happy days.

School Mornings

Big school

My son is excited. He's going to his new 'big school' this afternoon for a few hours. I on the other hand I am feeling quite nervous. I remember how I dreaded the prospect of leaving the safety and warmth of my infant school to embark on my journey into junior school. It all seemed new and strange, full of unknowns and people I hadn't met. The teachers were scary. Two in particular were known for their occasional bouts of rage. During lunch break, dinner ladies would patrol the playground. I recall there was no grass, just a very hard tarmac'd surface with strange lines and circles painted on it. Falling over would result in hideous bruises and bloody scrapes which would be treated with TCP and witch hazel. I always sought out the kindest dinner lady and soon befriended her. She had a new digital watch. I hadn't seen one before and it was amazing. I clung to her as much as I could. I felt safe with her and she protected me from the big boys.
I would hope against hope that the bell wouldn't ring and I wouldn't have to go back in to class. The route back took me up a flight of stairs unchanged from the day they were built at the turn of the last century. The brickwork was shiny and appeared to be sort of varnished.
Returning to class, I would take my seat once more unsure of what was in store for us. I had a good view of the clock. That was good, as I would have my eye on it a lot, willing the hands to move faster... but they never did.