As you can imagine with any first day at school, there was much dragging of feet; much sulking and much posturing on how unfair life is. Yes, I can be a child.
As I walked, dragging my feet, I imagined writing this post and that it would end with me saying how lovely it all was, how much Isobel loved it and that it was not as bad as I imagined. But that wasn't quite how it played out.
There were many children crying, but that was okay, it was explained by the babies having their settling-in visit to the more grown up part of nursery. I felt reassured.
I was there to fill in forms, which I did in the baby room accompanied by Isobel's key carer - another Saffir - would you believe it. She seemed nice enough, I tried not to stare at the angry patch of excema that was visible under her polo shirt.
The trouble is Isobel likes to play, she likes to have toys that do things, she likes to watch the world. So, plonking her in a bumbo seat facing away from everyone with a boring ball on her lap was bound to bore her. Lying her on her front where she can't see anyone with equally dull toys was also unlikely to stimulate her. Isobel likes to play, but needs some props at the very least.
And it was hot in there, yesterday was a hotter day than today so I dread to think how unbearable yesterday would have been.
There isn't room for our pushchair*... children were running around in just nappies...
Oh, I know I'm looking for excuses. Truth be told, I think Isobel is just a little bit too little for nursery right now.
*One thing I have discovered that is extremely challenging for a single parent is turning a pram into a pushchair, there are things that are definitely easier with two. That said, I've kind of done it; it was a struggle but worth it.
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