I was meant to write about how I am not feeling emotional about our eldest daughter starting school. I kept seeing and hearing parents being overcome about their kids starting school and I have felt strangely indifferent.
I am not generally indifferent. Twenty minutes into the Australia Day broadcast on Monday night I had cried six times. I am a crier, an emotional floodgates kind of girl. But I haven’t felt close to tears about the milestone my daughter will meet early next week.
So I concluded I was feeling unemotional about the whole thing and set out to write exactly that. Except as soon as I sat down to do just that, it dawned on me that I am feeling emotional about it. I’m just not feeling sad about it.
I am not mourning her baby days or feeling heartsick at the prospect of her spending Monday to Friday in a classroom.
I don’t feel torn about her growing up. I don’t feel like this is the end of something. And, curiously for a natural born worrier, I am not angsting over this new chapter.
I am sure once she starts there will be angst – hers, ours, her sister’s – about everything from reading to homework to friends to forgotten library books/ swimmers/lunch boxes.