After much mental debate, I have decided to send Tara back to school today. She is not herself completely, but is active enough to play and talk all day with no signs of fever. The only thing that is worrying is her cough and lack of appetite. She has completed day three of her antibiotics so she won't be contagious to other children either. My concern is that with her weakened immune system she may catch another bug. Weighing all things up she could probably catch another bug anytime, anywhere so I don't think it's right to keep her away from school in anticipation of illness.
What a terrible half term. All that talk of making sure I spend time with her having fun all through the half term week, fell by the wayside as my little girl raged with illness, with no complaints I might add. Last night I readied myself for the usual tears and nervousness before she went to bed, knowing it was a school day tomorrow. But none came. No questions either. I wondered if she knew there was school the next day. She clearly did as she asked me to put out tights instead of socks for Monday. So this morning, after an extra long cuddle we dressed for school.
Every child is different. Tara is one of the children who does not like the fact that she is the youngest in her class. Sending her to full time school as soon as she turned four was a very difficult thing for me to do. I could have deferred the decision by a few months but I wanted to give it a go first before I made that call.
Looking up at the sky through the window, Tara turned to me with a look of worry. Recently she had been 'trying very hard' to grow up to be five years old so she could be just like her other classmates. She looked a bit worried and said, "Mummy, when I finally become five, will the others become six?" I nodded my head in affirmation. She continued, "... and when I become six, they would be seven?" I nodded again taking a deep breath as I realized this number counting could go on for a very long time.
Tara surprised me by stopping suddenly as she hung her head and said, "So I can never catch up then." I gave her a hug and said, it doesn't matter. I couldn't think of anything else. I realized that for a good while longer, my child would probably come last in school races, not see eye to eye with her much taller classmates, not be able to read as fast or count as quick, not be as competent using a fork and knife at lunch time, and many more things that would mean a lot more to her than those around her... except me.
I realized it was time to put my thinking hat on. I'm Mum you see. It's my job. I have to be prepared at all times. So fingers crossed for a good day for all.
What a terrible half term. All that talk of making sure I spend time with her having fun all through the half term week, fell by the wayside as my little girl raged with illness, with no complaints I might add. Last night I readied myself for the usual tears and nervousness before she went to bed, knowing it was a school day tomorrow. But none came. No questions either. I wondered if she knew there was school the next day. She clearly did as she asked me to put out tights instead of socks for Monday. So this morning, after an extra long cuddle we dressed for school.
Every child is different. Tara is one of the children who does not like the fact that she is the youngest in her class. Sending her to full time school as soon as she turned four was a very difficult thing for me to do. I could have deferred the decision by a few months but I wanted to give it a go first before I made that call.
Looking up at the sky through the window, Tara turned to me with a look of worry. Recently she had been 'trying very hard' to grow up to be five years old so she could be just like her other classmates. She looked a bit worried and said, "Mummy, when I finally become five, will the others become six?" I nodded my head in affirmation. She continued, "... and when I become six, they would be seven?" I nodded again taking a deep breath as I realized this number counting could go on for a very long time.
Tara surprised me by stopping suddenly as she hung her head and said, "So I can never catch up then." I gave her a hug and said, it doesn't matter. I couldn't think of anything else. I realized that for a good while longer, my child would probably come last in school races, not see eye to eye with her much taller classmates, not be able to read as fast or count as quick, not be as competent using a fork and knife at lunch time, and many more things that would mean a lot more to her than those around her... except me.
I realized it was time to put my thinking hat on. I'm Mum you see. It's my job. I have to be prepared at all times. So fingers crossed for a good day for all.
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