I can’t believe the big day has come and gone, and my baby is now a school kid! We made the last few days before he started as special as we could, visiting the beach, our favourite chocolate cafe, the museum, and anything else we could fit in.
I was particularly nervous, not only because Charlie is one of the youngest in his year and we had a lot of toing and froing whether to send him this year or next, but we’d also had the worst orientation day possible, and I couldn’t help but worry something dramatic would happen on his first day of school too. Thankfully, he handled it like a pro, no tears, just a high five for me and his Daddy on our way out. I was so proud.
Just as a recap, Charlie’s orientation day: for months, Husband and I had said that we would use his orientation as a guide for whether to send him to school or not, so I was feeling quite nervous. He left home happily, everything was going well. Then we got to school. He told me he felt a bit sick. I thought maybe he was just nervous. We went to the welcome in the hall, sat in the front row, and he started lying down on my lap.
Then, just as the proceedings were beginning, he projectile vomited. Up my face. All through my hair. All over my white shirt. All over himself. And it just kept going and going. Exorcist style. I was kind of frozen, but one of my friends was sitting near us and came over and, you know, wiped some of the vomit from my face, some teachers wiped up the floor, and they helped me get him out of the hall so he could continue vomiting outside. We actually attempted to stay after that, but the vomit kept coming, so we ended up having to forego the rest of orientation.
Thankfully, Charlie wasn’t too traumatised. He’s pretty familiar with the school, used to running around with his brother for the past two years. Nonetheless, at this early stage, it feels like we’ve made the best choice for Charlie, and hopefully he continues in the happy way he’s started!
Also, huge mistake of taking him for a haircut the day before school started to a terrible hairdresser who interpreted my “I still want his hair long, just tidy it up a bit” to mean, “Please make my child look like Lloyd from Dumb and Dumber”.