First Day of School

So the Diva (4) started school today. She’s been excited since the trial morning session in July. She thinks her teacher is minor celebrity and over the course of the summer holidays, Mrs Thomas has been spoken about with the level of awe, fear and respect usually reserved for Father Christmas.

She has been asking me how many sleeps until school starts for weeks. She literally couldn’t wait to go. Sadly she has the memory of a goldfish so when she woke up this morning and I asked her what exciting thing was going to happen today, she couldn’t remember and suggested that I might let her try coco-pops. Nice try, no cigar. When I told her it was the first day of school she literally threw herself down the stairs in excitement and asked to get her uniform on.


For the first time ever, she got dressed in the time it took me to cook my porridge and then moan about it being too hot. This is astonishing. I usually have to ask her about 13 times just to put her pants on. We were fully dressed with breakfast eaten by 7.45am (I called Norris McWhirter to inform him of our family record breaking attempt, but sadly he died in 2004 so seemed disinterested)

So by 8.30am she was sat on the doormat waiting to go to school. We detoured via my sisters house for something to do, and then galloped to school. We arrive. We spot some of her nursery friends also waiting to go in. She tells them its the first day of school (because they didn’t know…) and she wriggles around like she needs a wee – she probably does but is less likely to admit it, than my husband is to a lift fart. Everyone is looking nervous. Kids, parents, teachers. No-one really knows what the day will hold. It’s the Divas turn to go in, she kindly notifies her teacher that today is the first day of school, and we go to put the PE bag on the peg. I follow her in. She looks at me like I don’t belong. Other children are crying. The Diva is confused by my presence. I tell her I’m going to go. She clearly wonders why I haven’t already. She hugs me and quickly turns her back. There is Minions colouring in, she has important business and there is no use for me anymore.

While a part of me is delighted by her independence, and feels proud of her for being so level headed and well adjusted, the other part of me is slightly concerned that I have been so easily replaced in her affections. She might as well have shouted – “Laters Mummy” in my face and flicked me the bird. I think she wishes she was Mrs Thomas’s daughter. I feel a bit gutted but I don’t cry – (I’m double hard, me). I go to work. I don’t get to pick her up from school which makes me a bit sad, but my lovely sister fills me in on the immediate school collection conversation. This is just as well as by the time I get her at 5.30pm she has completely forgotten everything she has done that day.

I feel a bit sad about missing out on some of the important parts of the day. Just before bed as I’m tucking her in, I ask her if she’s happy that Mrs Thomas is her teacher. She says the following “I love Mrs Thomas, she is kind and nice. But she’s not as good as you Mummy. You’re my favourite.” I leave her room with a tear in my eye, then proceed to run up and down the stairs punching the air in scenes reminiscent of Rocky. Then I eat some biscuits. This Mummy business is right emotional.

The Twinkle Diaries


    1. Love it. Sounds just like my son. He was ready an hour early – similarly usually he’ll take ages and wait for me to dress him. And his male teacher is like God according to N. It is a relief to know it’s not just N who doesn’t remember anything about school (well, apart from lunch).

      1. Oh yeah I got told about three times about the fish fingers and ketchup but she couldn’t remember a single thing she had done. Thank you so much for reading. Xxk

      1. Thanks so much lovely. She was still desperate to go in this morning, love her. And she’s going to bed 45 minutes earlier as shes absolutely bloody knackered. Happy days! xx

    1. Wow, I’m so impressed at her enthusiasm. I might have to let her have a word with my reluctant reception son! Hope she carries on loving school

    1. My eldest held his first teacher in such high esteem both myself and his Father were left in no doubt as to his affections. I didn’t mind though because it was better than him being unsure or even unhappy. i wouldn’t worry about the lack of information, it is quite normal. i have no idea what mine do at school. Sometimes i get to hear a snippet of information only to find out it happened a month ago. lovely to hear about your daughter and her independence.

      1. Thanks for reading! She could tell me about the fish fingers in great detail, but nothing about the rest of the day. You can tell what’s important!

    1. Ahhh this is blooming brilliant ! You totally deserved that fist pump and the biscuits! I’d have been in floods I think! So brilliantly written and well done to your little lady for doing so fab on her first day of school 🙂 Thanks so much for linking up with #TwinklyTuesday

      1. I might have actually been a bit drunk when I wrote it, having the celebratory “you love me more than Mrs Thomas” pints of cider. I had to write it while it was fresh! Thank you so much for reading my blog, it always makes me smile to see a comment from you. xx

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