This week has seen my babies through one of their biggest milestones yet! Yesterday, they went to nursery for the very first time. Such a huge step — for them and us — it’s incredible to think that those two tiny, mewling, creatures, born just last year, who depended on me for everything, are now walking, talking, playing, learning… and now setting off on new adventures without their mama.
From next week onwards, they will be going to our local nursery for 4 hours each Tuesday and Wednesday morning.
Initially I was a bit apprehensive. I work from home so technically they don’t need to go to nursery but this new step is something that my boy and I have discussed at length and we both feel that, in terms of their development, this is something they do need.
It’s important for them to start socialising with other children; to see how other kids behave in certain situations —mealtimes, times of friction — be given guidance from another adult if it’s needed, be away from me for a little while…
And although I would love to mollycoddle them and keep them safe and hold them close until they’re much, much bigger, I know that that probably isn’t the best thing for them.
Speaking to one of the key-workers at the nursery, she said that very often the older children who are starting nursery for the first time have a much harder job settling in. They may be far more aware of things and can often anticipate being left, whereas a younger child may be too engrossed in it’s new surroundings to notice a parent slipping silently away.
They have just had two taster sessions so far— 2 hours yesterday and today — and they absolutely loved it! So much so that Cosmo — once he realised where he was this morning — was really excited to be back! Cue lots of jumping and happy chatter from my second born.
He is much more confident than his (very slightly) older twin. Put him in unfamiliar surroundings and he takes everything in his stride. Such a confident and self-possessed little personality emerging.
Bertie, on-the-other-hand, is quite clingy. I was exactly the same when I was little; hanging on to my mum’s petticoat and peering through her legs until I felt bold enough to join in. Funny how they are so different. They are being brought up exactly the same way so this is most certainly nature, rather than nurture, playing a part.
So at 88 weeks and 6 days, I cut the apron strings (just a little) and let my precious boys take their first steps into the big wide world without me.
Something I’d better get used to. It may be the first time, but it certainly won’t be the last…
Cutting the apron strings