Bonus Blog - starting school :)

Starting school... two small steps for some, two giant leaps for others...

I am blown away. I realise, retrospectively, that the load I was carrying somewhere in my inner consciousness was directly attributable to my anxieties about the children leaving one comfortable school and starting another, unknown school.

They were very happy at Greatham Primary - we were all very happy at Greatham Primary, fitted like a glove, a soft comfy old faithful glove. Quirks and feubles, routine and mannerisms Greatham Primary has been part of our day to day lives for the best part of six years. It was just another one of those parts of our lives that we didn't much need to think about, we didn't have to consider.

No such luxury here. We anticipated keeping the children off with us while we ran around, buying furniture, cars, new lives in a box.... and for the most part that is what happened. We thought we'd get them registered by the end of November and they could have a couple of weeks of 'new school' before the Christmas break and then start back afresh no longer the 'new kids' in January.

When they started eating each other's faces off we realised that their boredom was getting out of hand. No TV, no internet, just a few familiar toys and lots more unfamiliar ones, the shopping spree bribes were losing their impact and the parents' tempers were becoming shorter by the day. We had taken for granted the outside distractions that wiled away the hours before, the allotment play areas, the garden-matured toys... the familiarity of the locale which allowed lone trips up the lane, exploration of hedgerows. The individual bedroom space that was full of personal anchors into their lives... none of that here just mum, and dad, and so much boring stuff to do.

So, a trip to the 'immigrant welcome department' within the Hollywood Road Education Centre sealed the places in our very sought-after catchment school for the very next day if we wanted..... Oooh no, I wasn't expecting to hand over my babies so soon, could we postpone a day please...?

So we had a day to 'prepare' and the children had their places in Grade 1 and Grade 4. With children of their own age we couldn't have found a better system. Both children having had an extra year of education than their Canadian peers, Amelie's progress was my worry, more than Tom's - whose classmates would likely be at relatively similar levels to him, given the four years or so of formal education they had received to date, things tended to balance out by then. Amelie's classmates in Grade One, by contrast, had only just started formal education this summer, she has had two full years more than them and my concerns ran deeper than mere boredom on her part, I felt she would lose the enormous enthusiasm that she has always had for her schooling if she were placed in an enforced retrograde situation. No such concerns now though, her class is a 'Grade 1-2 split' which means she is sharing her school day with children who are a year older (but having had the same amount of education to date) as well as half the class who are her age. She gets to play and socialise with them all and her academic ability will fall somewhere between the two. I will, nevertheless, remember for a long time the look on the secretary's face when she asked her to sign something (expecting a 'cross' on the line or a scrawl....) when she signed her name so beautifully. "Oh, she writes already?" she stammered. Better shrink my ego or I'll be slapping makeup all over her face and entering her into North American talent competitions soon....(not!). A mum can be proud of her babies :)

So. Having met the teachers and gone through the paperwork, the e.n.d.l.e.s.s.... paperwork we were now, it seems, parent of students of the Anne McClymont Elementary school. Hurrah! We did it! We got into the best school in town, well, we would say that eh?! There's an ironic link to Anne of Green Gables which I won't bore you with right now but it is, apparently, the place to be. You can google if you're so inclined...

It's huge and, despite allaying most of my fears for the emotional integrity of my children, there was still a big part of me that wanted to run away and take them under my wing... it's OK, you don't have to come here, we'll home-school you or something, I'm so sorry to have put you through this upheaval, now now, let's erase that angst from your eyes....

I probably imagined that angst. When probed, Amelie just jumped up & down and said it was the best school ever and could she please just stay now. Tom - in his wary, sensitive, nine year old kind of way, stayed quiet and reserved, looked around a lot and tried to 'deal' with his anxieties by himself until we could be alone to chat. Turned out he was worried about bullies and whether he had a strict [male?] teacher and was re-assured by our delightful teacher friend that his concerns were unfounded.

So, armed with new 'runners', a lunch pack and gym kit, not to mention being dressed in ...wait, whatever they wanted to wear... the welcome we received at 'a quarter past eight' on Thursday 19th November, not even 48 hours after we decided to visit the education department, certainly verified this unfounded fear for Tom - and for us - we were treated like royalty. We were, for all intents and purposes, the most important thing to happen at the school for the last academic year. This is of course an absolute fallacy, the school is host to a number of high-profile events and guests, but we felt - at that moment - that The Galloways in town was so important that the school engine had stopped just for us. It was a great feeling, and the kids weren't the only ones to 'feel the love'... they barely looked back as Andy & I climbed back into the 'van' and wondered what we were going to do without them for the 'day'.

Never far from my mind and, undoubtedly Andy's too, we busied ourselves with work and admin, of which there is plenty. Collecting them 'at the door of their classroom' at 2.30 sharp was an event in itself. What was I expecting to see exactly? Amelie tied up in the corner, all her classmates throwing things at her?? For goodness sakes', she was so fine I felt bad about ruining it by my presence. She beamed when she saw me but made it known in her own special way, that she was good. That she belonged in this class and they had made her feel so welcome. She had 'a hundred' friends she said, but only remembered one name. That was good, she could learn a new one every day, after all all the school only had two new names to remember, they had the whole school to try and store in their grey matter.

Tom (met by Andy at his door) came round to Amelie's class with a new self-assurance. A certain je ne sais quoi that he hadn't gone in with. His fears and worries had lifted without him having to 'share' too deeply, he had come away with more friends and more attention in one day than he could have ever imagined. He said all the girls had been all over him, except one that was, and she loked like a cat so he didn't mind about her.

So, as an 'additional' bonus blog that was all that was about starting school for our little people. They miss their friends, especially our little lady, but they don't stress about it and they're going to be just fine with their new school buddies. Tom (as we speak) sleeps clutching the pencil that one of his new friends gave his inscribed (in 9 year old lead print) 'welcome to Canada my new friend' having gone to bed saying "I can't believe I'm saying this Mum but I can't wait to get to school tomorrow..." and Amelie having set out her 'pink' clothes for anti (pronounced an-tie rather than ant -ee) bullying day tomorrow asks me pleeeeease when can they take the yellow bus to school. So end of an era. No more playground chats, I just pack off my children and hope the bus gets to school and the children get off it... and know where to go. Will I ever stop worrying? Give me one more day, they can start after the weekend.. ;)

Oh, and did I mention that the PTA (or PAC as it's known here) meeting is on Monday and they have an extra 'grown-up' pair of hands so you bring your children along. Looks like I might finally be able to get involved in the PTA, no more badminton widow excuses, what a fab idea - they even get to chew on pizza while we grown-ups chew on the fat....
:)