oh the places you'll go Everly {2017}

I honestly, just can't believe this time as come. How is it possible that my little Everly is going to school?

I was an emotional wreck when she started preschool, this time two years ago. But I figured it was because I was heavily pregnant at the time, and was also about to send her big brother to school for the first time. I thought she would find the preschool transition hard; she was a clingy baby and could be quite needy as a toddler, but preschool came at just the right time for her and she surprised us so much by strolling in happily that first day (and every day after).

I thought that that might make this easier. I thought the fact that I've already been through all this before with Dylan would make it easier. But it doesn't.

Because I know now. That starting school means that you just lose so much time. Time that could be spent out on adventures, or on lunch dates, or playing in the garden, or just snuggling on the sofa watching television. Starting school means that you miss out on so many of the funny little chats, those ones that make you beam at how amusing and clever and fantastic your offspring is; someone else gets to have those funny little chats instead.

When Dylan went to school he was 100% ready. And if I'm honest with myself then Everly is 100% ready too. She's ready in a different way, because she's not so academically hungry as Dylan was/is, but she's very socially and emotionally mature. She's nearly 5 for goodness sake, she's a whole lot more ready than lots of children starting school would be.

But I'm really not sure that I'm ready.

And I'm not going to kid myself that her starting school will be an easy ride, because I have a suspicion that it won't be. This is a little girl who has just, in the past month or so, dropped a two hour afternoon nap. She's shattered most afternoons, and gets very sensitive and cuddly as a result. But then she is also a girl who is fiercely independent and very sociable, and I'm hoping that those things will get her through.

And if this morning was anything to go by, then I think she'll do just fine. She was just pure excitement without so much as a hint of nerves or apprehension. She was giddy about getting her uniform on, and getting to finally use the book bag and water bottle that she's wanted ever since Dylan started school.

Her excitement was contagious. And as emotional as it was to see my four year old suddenly look about twice the age as she donned her grey skirt, polo shirt and jumper; I couldn't help but keep grinning at her in the mirror as I did her hair (in the braids she had requested!!!) Dylan seemed nervous on her behalf and was sure to give her a car journey pep talk, all about how she'd be great, and he was so proud of her, and if she was ever unsure she should just ask a teacher. Listening to them made me all melty and gooey inside.

And suddenly it was time. In the gathering crowds by the foundation children's entrance, Everly had sought out a friend of hers and they made plans to walk in together; clench hands and chattering excitedly. Then the doors opened, she turned to me for a quick kiss and she was gone... first through the door; still hand in hand with her friend, smiling and with body language that was unmistakably excited.

I was remarkably brave. My lip wobbled, my eyes filled, but I kept the tears at bay. And at pick up time my girl came out of her classroom with a big smile. And a request to go again tomorrow.

We could not be prouder of you Everly.

You're a caring, independent, crazy, and amazing little person,

and you make the world better just by being in it.

Now go show that world just how fantastic our little sunshine is.