Tears and tearing at legs ... I was braced for it.
Miss Five's first day at school dawned with torrential rain and I was sure there would be floods from her to match it.
Yes, she said she was excited. Yes, she said she was looking forward to starting school. But words are
cheap and I have heard it all before. Bravery and bravado can quickly turn to mush when reality bites.
So when we got to her classroom and she blithely skipped to the front of the room, without so much as a glance over her shoulder, it was me that was left feeling out of place.
After five years of holding her hand and guiding her in new situations, I had suddenly been made redundant.
Struggling to be heard over the excited chatter of her classmates, I managed to call her back for a goodbye kiss.
It was brief and to the point. She was far too focused on her new life to put any real emotion into it.
I left feeling a little lost, and in need of a box of tissues.
The morning passed with company, cups of tea and facebook camaraderie.
And, with just Miss Two to run around after, the afternoon felt incomplete.
The hours ticked by and 3pm couldn't come fast enough.
Perhaps she would have a rush of emotion at pick-up time?
She did. Still raining, she was disappointed that she couldn't stay on longer to play with her friends.
In the car, I grilled her about her day.
"That's school stuff," she shrugged me off, like a petulant teenager.
When we got home she demanded a music DVD. I chose one that I thought was sure to be a hit. "That's too babyish," she scolded.
And there it was. I had heard about it, but I didn't expect it to strike so soon.
The dreaded "school attitude".
In one short day (that had felt like a really long day) she had gone from polite pre-schooler to sassy schoolgirl.
The next morning, as were leaving for school, she spat out her second tooth, the first having fallen out two weeks previously.
Things are moving way too fast.
Next stop puberty. I'm going to have to stock up on tissues.
