Stepping into a New Era...

After turning 4 in July, my twin boys, Oscar and Arlo, started school in September. I always knew this landmark moment was around the corner but I didn't like to think about it too much because I was relishing every moment of our precious time together. Our happy, hazy days were spent in a glorious whirl of swimming, painting, cooking, cycling, playing, shopping and climbing trees in the park. As the big date loomed closer, their sisters and I helped them to prepare by showing them how to pack away their lunch boxes, dress into their PE kits and do up their shirt buttons. I distracted myself from the worry of not being there to help with all these little things by choosing new school bags and admiring them in their crisp uniforms and shiny new shoes. So when the actual day came, I felt totally unprepared for the flood of feelings that engulfed me.

I woke far too early, at 4am, and had to apply my mascara three times because I couldn't stem the flow of tears. I was a mess. By the time I woke them at 5.30am I'd managed to disguise my sorrow and feign enthusiasm for their new adventure. We took the obligatory 'first day' photos and their sister, Ivy, proudly grasped their hands as we walked into school. I'll never forget how touched I felt when the teacher asked the children to come and sit in a circle on the carpet. My beautiful boys, who had spent every minute of their lives together since the day they were conceived, said goodbye to us with heartwarming bravery, sprinkled with a noticeable touch of trepidation. They reached out to hold each other's hand as they went to sit down together, hidden behind the other children, too unsure of their new environment to actually position themselves next to anybody else. The teacher then asked them to come and sit alongside the others, which they did, and as my husband and I left them with their new group of classmates and future friends, I consoled myself with the fact that at least they had each other.

When you've been responsible for every second of your children's welfare and happiness, been there to share every experience, dry every tear, respond to every question, delight in every milestone, it's very hard to hand that care over to someone else for a substantial part of the day. I spent the rest of that first morning crying and it took a good few weeks for my heavy heart to feel lifted again.

I’ve always worn sunglasses on each of my children's first days at school, knowing that I'd inevitably feel overwhelmed by emotion. It's never been easy; I feel the poignancy of the occasion so acutely. But this time was much more gut-wrenching than the others. It not only marked a new era for my twins, but it was also a huge turning point for me. It was the first time I'd returned from the school drop-off to a childless house. For 14 years I'd always had a child or children to take care of at home, and for 11 of those years I was continuously either pregnant or breastfeeding. I truly loved every moment with a passion. It defined me and fulfilled me and kept me happy. My world was rose tinted with the pitter patter of tiny feet, tender cuddles and endless instances of endearment and pride.

When you spend so much time with children and see the world through their eyes, everything seems so much more magical. Little things are magnified to wondrous proportions. We were heroes for the day after saving a dragonfly from drowning, we were the most talented musicians in the world when we took out our box of instruments and played and sang loudly, we were hardy farmers when we planted seeds in the garden, we were real firefighters in our dress up outfits and we were intrepid explorers when we walked through woodland collecting sticks. All the tiny details of the world around us were there to immerse ourselves in. Without my tiny team mates I was devoid of an effervescent sparkle. On car journeys alone I had to get used to not pointing out diggers, police cars and fire engines, not playing Spongebob songs, not continuously turning around to check on them. Home felt strangely quiet and it took a long time to get used to not engaging in endless dialogue about anything and everything, not constantly directing my focus and energy on them and not thinking about the next exciting activity. I missed them terribly, but that was my new reality.

Of course, the boys adapted quickly, as children tend to do, and settled into school incredibly well. They love their new routine, their new friends and all the imaginative and fun activities they get up to. Seeing them thrive has helped me to embrace the change, safe in the knowledge that they're happy and well cared for. Meanwhile, I now have a few hours a day to move forward with my writing and do other things that I feel passionate about. I've started to do more painting, I have another book planned and I intend to update my blogs regularly, so watch this space....!