Letter To A Mum Whose Little One Is Starting School

Look at them, in their new uniform, so grown-up! You take the obligatory picture of your four-year-old, you are so proud, you smile, then you make it to the car and burst into tears. A piece of your heart outside your body will now be away for hours every day, making their own way into the world.

Psychologists talk a lot about children experiencing separation anxiety as they start school, but the truth is, you are both in the grip of separation anxiety. And often, just like your child, you are told that it is out of place. Don’t be sad. Don’t cry. You don’t want to be holding them back. You should be proud. You should be happy.

We put on a brave face for our kids. But if we can’t be sad about our losses (and aren’t even allowed to acknowledge them), odd things start to happen. We are suddenly intensely worried (the “anxiety” part). What if their shoes rub? If they fall in the playground, will other kids laugh? Will anyone help them up? Will teachers remember to give them their medicine? (It is thanks to this anxiety that we are such pro-active planners, thoughtful school bag packers and clothes pickers. But it also keeps us up at night.) Or we get just so angry, at the government, the school and its stupid rules, our partner. A little like our school starters, in a full-blown after-school meltdown over a sandwich cut the wrong way.

Both anxiety and intense frustration are symptoms of the unprocessed grief of separation. It is not helped by the fact everyone is congratulatory. That’s it, they say, you’ve made it out of the early years, you’ve won it. Look at them, so smart in their uniform! Not a baby anymore. When my eldest was about to start school, I was told a terrifying thing by an older parent, “Once they are at school, they are not completely yours anymore.” Turns out it was a big fat lie. School uniform doesn’t make yesterday’s toddler suddenly more mature, and, years later, my son is still completely my son. His teachers change every year, but our bond stays the same. In fact, during that start of school he needed me more, and I was lucky to have been able to clear my afternoons for him. In fact, I believe one of the reasons he took to school so well was that my husband and I helped him feel connected to us throughout the school day.

What can I say to a mum of a school starter? Welcome your very real grief. Make room for your tears. Have a cry in the car, and then again tomorrow, and then again, until your heart heals. Call someone who understands. On the other side of your tears is the joy of a school pick-up, your little one running into your embrace. On the other side you can enjoy some reliable childcare, finally get some space for your career, for exercise, for focus. On the other side you can make a concrete plan for supporting your little one through this huge transition. They are your baby; you have the power to help them.  I’m thinking of you.

Sending the biggest hug,

Olga