The First Time I Ever
A Change Is Gonna Come – Taster Days at Preschool
I love autumn. The beginning of September is the start of the new as we get ready to embark on embracing change.
Also at this time judging by the amount I have seen, I believe that there must be a strict law. It states that parents must plaster Facebook with photos of their shiny faced kids in new over-sized school uniforms stood by back doors.
Mums and dads fight back the urge to, on one hand, cry that their little babies are growing up so quickly and, on the other, think ‘Thank f’ck the holidays are over, and I can get back some sanity’.
I am no exception. I got ready to start kicking off my new project and for Duke’s first taster days at preschool. Not only did I get to take him and pick him up we booked a very important meeting to discuss it at our new HQ.
I had been looking forward to this. The chance to help settle him in the school that he will remain in for the next few years felt like a fantastic honour. Had I been commuting this wouldn’t have happened, so I already know that I have made the right decision in giving up F/T work.
How Taster Days at Preschool Work
No one had explained the rules of these taster days at preschool to me. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do. I felt bad because we were already a half hour late turning up as I thought starting the day with a celebration trip t0 Brighton Pier would be a good idea.
What I didn’t account for was the fact that a tear-stained Duke would leave his new Star Wars cap behind and we would have to spend a frantic 30 minutes running around the pier looking for it.
Once we eventually got to preschool, Duke saw all the toys and he was off without so much of a second look. I had imagined some kind of torture as he screamed the place down while clinging to my leg. No, not my boy, he was off quicker than Paula Radcliffe at a Portaloo. So what was I to do, stand round the edges feeling nervous like a right lemon?.
No, I did what any right-minded dad would do when surrounded by loads of Lego, dried pasta and dressing up clothes. I got stuck right in and became a three-year-old again.
I became very popular with the kids, who ran round feeding me lashings of ‘spiders on toast’ and portions of Gruffalo grumble. They ganged up on me, nicked my hat, scratched at my beard and forced me to sit down on chairs the size of pixies much to the disagreement of my knees. You know what? it was bloody brilliant and something I will never forget.
Alongside this, the first couple of weeks of ‘self-unemployed’ has already given me so many opportunities to see things differently. Here’re a few of the images that I have been blessed enough to be part of.