Indiana’s first day at school…

Well, it’s happened at last! Young Indiana had his first day at school on Thursday. There was excitement the night before, when we carried out the ritual putting-on-of-the-uniform ceremony to make sure it “still fitted” (because he thinks he has grown excessively in the last few weeks since the Princess purchased it??).
Then we had some general complaining… “Why do I have to go to bed! Bed is so boring!” and “Ohhhh! It will take forever for morning to get here!” and “I’ll never be able to go to sleep!” Once he was settled, sleep took over in about a minute, and we could relax.
Lots of things went through my mind that night. I wondered how he will handle being left at school. He really enjoyed Kindergarten, making friends and enjoying the arty crafty activities, and even sat quietly for the story reading at the end of each class! I worried about how he would be at a different (and MUCH larger school) with a group of strangers (except for one little girl from his kinder) and an unfamiliar teacher. I wondered if he would get into a fight and clobber anyone or get biffed, as he tends to be very stubborn if he thinks he has been hard done by.
I guess it’s a normal parents lot to worry about these things, but as this is my first experience at parenthood, I wanted everything to go smoothly for him, and for him to be happy and enjoy his first few days. I took time off work so that I could take him to school and pick him up, so that at least I would be there for him when it counted, and if (God forbid!) anything went wrong and the school called, I would be close at hand.

We arrived at his school with plenty of time to spare, and waited outside his classroom (he is in yellow group, and he has a very friendly and pleasant teacher named Alex). Looking around, I could pick the parents with older kids. They seemed a bit blasé about the whole experience… been there, done that, another one out of the way! Then there were a few others, just like me, who appeared calm and collected, but kept glancing around at their little protégés, checking for tears and bolstering them up as much as possible with questions like “Are you going to have fun at school today, Rastus?” and “Hey, Tholmadis, this is going to be great, isn’t it?” or "See, Jennyfher Seiouxhe, I told you this would be fun! I was right! ...wasn't I?" (names have been changed or manufactured to protect the innocent). I have a theory (based on my own experience that morning) that these questions were not really attempting to placate the kids, but more to calm the parents nerves and convince themselves that their precious little ones would survive the day emotionally unscathed.

We walked into his new classroom, and Alex instructed us to place nametags on both little Indy and his bag, place the bag in his own little nook, then feel free to wander around and check the place out. The school is an open-plan setup, with classrooms divided by walls, but completely open into the centre of the buildings. It feels nice and accessible, not isolated like the old classroom style. Rooms are just closed in enough to negate noise and distraction. Indiana immediately headed for a large plastic cubby house and disappeared into it whilst keeping a close eye on the Princess and I to make sure we weren’t going to abandon him at the first available opportunity. Small children were everywhere, like some sort of noisy infestation. They climbed over things, through things, around things. They drew on anything that wasn’t mobile (we had to keep walking slowly around to avoid becoming masterpieces). They seemed to need to yell to each other, even when within whispering distance.

After a while, the Princess has to leave, so said her goodbyes and headed off, leaving me with Indiana for the last 5 minutes or so before parents would be asked politely but firmly to bugger off. Indy was a little quiet, buy happily helped cover the paper on his table with pictures of men and helicopters. Then the public address system burst into life with the usual blast that scares the hell out of anyone not accustomed to it (namely me), especially nervous parents waiting to leave their children (yep, me again).
I was twisted. I have to say goodbye to my little man and leave without making a fuss, but I really want to stay, or to grab him and make a dash for the door like some sort of demented child snatcher whilst yelling at the top of my voice “It’s ok, son, I won’t leave you here! I won’t abandon you like all these other bad people!”
I squat down awkwardly (due to my bad back, but more about that in a later post) and tell him I have to go now. His little head drops low and he stares at the table. “Will you be ok?” The little blonde head nods. “Have a great first day! I will be back this afternoon to pick you up, alright?”
“Ok Dad.”
“I love you!”
“I love you too, Dad.” says a soft little voice. It looks like one of us is about to break down in tears. He looks so small, so fragile. His little shoulders slump. I want to scoop him up and hold him tight.
My heart sinks, but I get up and walk towards the door, past the screaming little girl who has suddenly become bonded to her mother’s leg with something stronger than Tarzan’s Grip – FEAR. I turn briefly and give him a quick thumbs-up, which he returns half-heartedly, his face missing the usual grin.
I walk the rest of the way to the door, afraid to turn around and look again in case I don’t like what I see.
As I exit the classroom, I look back at him through the large full length windows, expecting to see tears. What? Where the hell has he gone? He’s not sitting at the table where I left him… A quick scout around and I spot him jumping up and down on a large round polystyrene bean bag the size of a table with his little friend from Kinder, a huge smile on his face, yelling at the top of his voice!
Little bugger!

I think I’ve just been taken for a ride by a 5 year old…..