My brave boy,
You started preschool today.
You thought your uniform was amazing because it’s the same colour as the ones your big cousins wear. You thought your hat was really quite fetching and you couldn’t wait to use your new lunchbox. We’ve been talking about preschool for what seems like months.
We’ve gone over every aspect of what your day would look like, we practiced eating lunch from your gazillion lunchboxes, we even practiced how to make friends – with daddy playing the role of ‘that sad kid in the corner who might like a friend’.
We did as much as we could to make the unknown known to you.
It wasn’t enough.
You raced into your room, you showed me every corner of it, you seemed excited, no … maybe just a little bit… terrified.
The moment I had to leave, you unravelled. Your fingers dug into my arms, your eyes grew wide with horror, I could feel your fear in my bones.