


Err, where exactly did that time go?
Place your bets now - how many tissues will I go through on Monday morning? I can't BEAR the thought of him being a big boy and taking this massive step towards being less dependent on me. That's really sad, isn't it?
I KNOW he's ready - he is obsessed with other children, is very sociable and (even if I do say so myself) really quite bright after a slow start. He is - frankly - getting bored at home; and I'm sure he's going to love it there. But where has my tiny, fragile little baby gone? I well up with tears every time I see his uniform. (I actually burst into tears today, but that was because I spent an hour hand hemming his trousers and then, duh, realised I'd forgotten to turn the ruddy things inside out....

Does everyone feel like this? I know this is when his perfect little world starts to change - that he will realise that people can be cruel, and hurtful and that - shock horror - he'll be expected to do as he's told and that he can't always wangle his own way (and can't get away with running around naked all day..

How the hell do I deal with it if he actually hates it and doesn't want to go back on Tuesday?