when such mundane thing as going to school becomes extraordinarily momentous... so be warned; you'll fall asleep after reading this title.

lew first day at pre-school, originally uploaded by Soyy.

I thought I should mark my 3-year-old's first day at pre-school as momentous. I wasn't as anxious as I was when his big brother started nursery. Maybe because I knew what to expect. Or that I just have too much on my plate at the moment that Lew's first day away from me was celebrated with a general clean-up of the house.

Either way, he made me very proud. His teacher's first comment was that he sat through a long story. I just smiled. I didn't have to say that we eat books at home, that for him to sit through a long story-time was just snacks for him, or light lunch. Didn't she know that we recite the words in the Oxford Dictionary as bedtime routine? Or that we sprinkle old newspapers in our porridge, because that's how you eat words!

Anyway. I also feel a bit of guilt, in that I feel a little bit of liberation. For 12 hours a week, when I am not at work, I am not a mother. Not that I cease to be someone's parent, but for those precious hours of staying at my desk, writing or reading my books, nobody would say, 'mummy, milk please!'. Now, somebody else would be fetching that milk and I could do what I want with my time, aside from doing the housework, of course.

And yet, when I went to pick him up from school, I felt like I just wanted to grab him from the teacher's arms and put him back in my womb. Just like that. I missed him but I just shifted that feeling and boxed it in.

So when I took him back home, I didn't let go of him. I cuddled him. I kissed him. I carried him around the house like a little baby. Because tomorrow, and after that, he will already have his own little world that I am not part of. And that world will grow bigger and bigger until I become just a mother in name and affection.