Our son started school last week and it’s been a lot. I knew that I would get emotional about Little Man starting school but I hadn’t thought of the sensory overwhelm and additional administration of school.
Trying to organise the school drop-offs and pick-ups with grandparents, and between me and Jay. Who can get him and when. Do we do after school clubs? How does work and life fit around this new routine?
The phonics sessions, SEN coffee mornings, reading books, empty book bags, trying to organise an accessible parking bay.
There is an app to organise lunches, another to get messages and pay for things. Yet another for his learning journey. There are no clear expectations on when there will be updates and whether they school want us to add to his learning journey too.
The school run
The school drop-offs and pick-ups have been very intense.
I try desperately to have everything organised in time to get Little Man there safely and happily. His last minute trip to the toilets, the negotiation of school jumpers, wearing coats because its raining but its also too hot to wear a coat. Taking the car even though the school is 10 mins up the road because the weeklong downpour started exactly when school did.
Most mornings I leave for school tired, groggy and frazzled and then I have to park… There are only two accessible bays which are usually taken, so I can either park road side (total carnage) or get fined for parking in the garage or clamped for parking at the doctors surgery. All these choices to be made whilst navigating other families who drive and park like it’s the end of days.
After getting parked and walking in (was it even worth using the car!?), we come into the school gates with music blaring out We rush round the building to try to queue for his class to open. A very soggy situation surrounded by a million other families, scooters, mobility scooters, pushchairs, nursery children, bigger children, mud and giant puddles. Some children are crying, Little Man jumps the queue and I dont have the energy or social understanding to know if people are annoyed. There is a part of me that doesn’t really care. I’m just happy he wants to go in.
Leaving school is just as bad with so many children, families, dogs, bikes and scooters choking the pavement. We finally arrive to the safety of the car. I sit and I breathe for a second. Little Man has already taken of his coat. I’m wishing I had taken off mine as I try to see through my fogged up windscreen.
We finally get home and from the school run that feels like we may as well have climed a mountain.
Same again tomorrow.