IT WAS back to school for many children in Ballarat this week, including a brand new year of prep students.
On Monday, Ballarat mother Jean English will drop her eldest daughter, four-and-a-half year old Audrey, off at school for the first time.
Jean kept a diary for The Courier this week about how her family was coping with the lead-up to the big day.
MONDAY
Audrey tries on her school dress so I can take it up. It’s size four and still much too long. I look at her and think, surely she’s too little to go to school. I’m worried about her being the youngest in the class. She’s worried about having to wear navy and yellow. The uniform is expensive but I’m glad there is one. I managed to get a second-hand jumper and a friend gave me a pair of black shoes. On sports days the kids wear sneakers. I hope there aren’t strict rules about these. Audrey chose the shiniest, pinkest, most glittery ones in the shop. “Do you like your uniform?” I ask her. “I do. But it would be nice if it was pink.”
TUESDAY
Audrey and I play snakes and ladders. It was in the Prep pack she brought home after her transition day at school. “If I get a two I’ll go up that ladder!” she says, shaking the die. My youngest, George, is asleep. I used to turn the telly on during his naps, but a few weeks ago I thought, really, once school starts I won’t be spending much time with Audrey any more. So now, instead of doing dishes and hanging washing out, I play snakes and ladders, or draw princesses, or make treasure hunts. The house is a mess but this is it; next week she’s off. I don’t think I’ll cry at the school gate, but I will miss her, probably more than I imagine.
WEDNESDAY
(My husband) Tom takes Audrey out to practise riding her no-training-wheels bike. My aim this year is to walk to school, as long as it’s over 12 degrees and not raining but, with a pram, it takes 25 minutes. I know Audrey will be totally exhausted after school every day for at least six months, if not the whole year. We will drive some days, but when we don’t, riding her bike might be easier than walking all the way. “Mum, come and see me ride by myself,” Audrey says. I watch her shoot down the nature strip towards me. She’s wearing her school shoes. Tom catches her at the bottom of the hill and she says “I’ll be able to ride to school now, I’ve just got to learn how to stop.”
THURSDAY
Audrey and I discuss school lunches. She loves peanut butter sandwiches but I’m pretty sure St Columba’s has a nut-free policy. The school also encourages ‘nude food’, which means no packaging. I think it’s great. My plan is to bake enough slices, quiches and muffins to fill the chest freezer. Well, half the freezer. Or, you know, just a container. “Let’s make cupcakes,” says Audrey. She measures out the flour, sugar and cocoa. We talk about cups and half cups. She helps George count out 15 patty cases. I am really excited about what she will learn this year. I think she’ll be thrilled when she can sit down and read a book all by herself.
FRIDAY
I take Audrey to school for her literacy test. She sits with the teacher for half an hour while I go to the uniform shop to buy her a new hat. I did buy one in December, but it’s already lost. Afterwards I ask Audrey about her test. “I had to write Audrey and Mum and Dad and George,” she says. “Look at the sticker I got!” She wears the new hat all the way home. I must remember to label everything before Monday. Monday! Wow. When Audrey was born she weighed five pounds, ten ounces. Now she can make her own breakfast, climb trees, draw farm scenes and tell dragon stories to George. OK, I might cry at the school gate. Like all the other parents.
Email a friend