Change is imminent.
It's exciting. Slightly overwhelming too, but full of promise and potential.
My babies start school in six months. My chest constricts when I think about it. I know they're ready; they're such eager learners, inquisitive, clever, creative and capable. They're ready. But am I?
In many ways, yes, of course I am. It's not like it's come out of the blue. I've had 4.5 years to prepare for it.
But no, no! I'm not ready. They are so little. They're tiny little dots who still wear size 2 clothes. Next year is the first of 13 years of full-time schooling, the start of the reality that they'll spend more awake hours with peers and educators than with me. I hope I've prepared them well, instilled values and morals, taught them right from wrong, and how to practise gratitude.
We've spent a long time contemplating schools, and we are utterly smitten with one in particular. It's just right; small but perfectly formed.
We're still waiting to hear if they'll be offered places there, and we have everything crossed.
And if they do, then our lives will be changing. We will need to move, which means selling our beautiful home. This will hurt our hearts, but it offers exciting opportunities. We'll be moving to an inner-city urban area. Dense, populated, full of energy and verve. We are urban people, so the thought of living smack bang in the middle of it is intoxicating.
We'll be moving back to where we bought our first home together, where we lived when we were newly married, before we moved to London, and to where we returned; before we started our family. We've always missed it, but for some reason, or another, thought we needed to move to do just that.
Funny how life brings you back to where you started.
Here's hoping.
