Time marches on…

He may be only four but the baby of the house is growing up.  Fast. 

He’s been the last at home with mum during the week as his siblings attend school and courses.  He’s relaxed and confident and we somehow just co exist on those days without too much incident.

His siblings were another story… his eldest brother was an ever enquiring child.  Tiring in his constant quest for answers.  He wore me out mentally in any given day.  Books, computers, games – he consumed them all tirelessly.   His sleep pattern was short.  Bedtime was 7:30pm but he’d sneak out to sit on the stairwell and watch me clean and stitch until around 10 ish.  He’d be awake and ready to attack the day by 5 am though.

To reduce the amount of time we had getting frustrated with each other, I enrolled him in our local Montessori Childrens House.  By age 4 he was attending 4 days a week and doing brilliantly.  My stress levels had also reduced considerably!

My little Miss was just as inquisitive and thought-provoking.  Her pre school year was taken up with two days at one centre and three at another to make up the time.  It was her choice though.  I started her at one centre and within weeks she was constantly asking to attend on the remaining days.  She flourished. A social butterfly, she is also gifted academically.

Master six was attending pre prep three days a week at age four.  On the off days, he wrangled with his (younger by 19 months) brother and demanded attention for his constant frustrations.  There never seemed to be a quiet moment between the specialists appointments, sibling interaction and day-to-day routines. 

In contrast, my youngest now only attends his pre prep centre two days a week.  Until recently he also had a day in family daycare but when the circumstances of his daycare mum changed, I seriously pondered long and hard whether a replacement was required or worth it.

It’s one term until the end of the year… less than three months until 2012.  For most of this year, he’s spent a day at home with me, a day at family daycare, a day with his father, two more at the daycare centre and then weekends with his dad as well.

He is a bright and chirpy lad with an endearing cheeky charm all his own.  He’s active and full on, physically and mentally.  He loves stimulation and craves it.  So it was with much in trepidation that I decided to keep him home another day a week instead of finding a suitable new carer.

Somehow in the last few weeks, we’ve bonded more than I’ve ever had a chance to with him before.  He’s the snuggly one cuddling up to me in bed in the morning.  He’s my little comedian and goofball when things are a little off kilter… I realised a couple of days ago just how much I’m enjoying his company during our two days together.  Sometimes his father has him for some of the second day but I find myself selfishly wanting him with me more.

Perhaps this is his privilege as the baby?  Maybe I’m less inclined to wish this time away because he is my youngest?  I only know that I sure wish this year contained more days, weeks and months than it does.

Because inevitably, 2012 will arrive with all the usual fanfare and my smallest, smiling, self assured offspring will eagerly stride off to join his older siblings at school. He will also have the honour of officially being the youngest to have attended school. The older children all started “big school” at age five.  He will still be only four on his first day.  *sigh*

I’m sure my own importance in his life will reduce slightly on this new adventure… but it doesn’t hurt to hope otherwise.  Right? 


~ by C J on October 14, 2011.

2 Responses to “Time marches on…”

  1. Nawww C *big hugs* That first day when the baby goes to big school is hard… I won’t lie. But the huge smile and waving of the upteen pieces of paper and stickers on their shirts when they get home in the arvo, makes you realise they are happy being ‘big’.

    I’d love for B6 to be home with me, I know he’d like it too. He is such a home body… he loves school, but he loves time with Mummy & Daddy more.


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