Last night I stood over you for a little longer than I usually do, watching you sleep, seeing the rise and fall of your chest. It seems impossible that my little girl is going to school. It’s a total cliche, I know, but these past five years have really flown by and it feels like so little time ago that I was eagerly waiting your arrival. Now, with just a couple of months until you turn five, you are off on your next big adventure.
You’ve always been confident, more independent than your big brother, but I am still nervous to say goodbye this morning, to let you go… I’ve been thinking of all the things that might make you scared, might make you feel out of your depth.
Not much fazes you, you aren’t a worrier like me, but it’s a big step for someone so small, and I can’t help but panic a little about this change.
You look so adorable in your uniform. I know you don’t like people telling you that, but you really and truly do. You’re my only little girl, my princess, and I am fiercely overprotective of you, whether you want me to be or not.
I have absolutely no worries about you making friends at school – you were instantly popular at nursery and with your kind heart and infectious laugh, everyone who meets you falls under your spell (you’re going to be a nightmare when you’re older, I can tell).
I’ve had a head start on this whole school thing with your big brother – I’ve had two years of school runs to get used to this, but yet I still felt like I was holding back the tears this morning when I waved goodbye to you.