J and I have just come back from our very first holiday away together. Along with lots of other single mothers and their preschool children, we stayed in a massive field on a farm, in wood/canvas cabins. That story will be my next post, but for now I will just say that it was absolutely fantastic. We both made lots of new friends, my little boy is full of fresh air and fun and his hair smells of woodsmoke. Totally worth my now rather overdrawn bank account.
As I dont have a car, the holiday involved a total of 6 1/2 hours of train travel and two taxis to take us into the middle of nowhere and back out again. Travelling by train usually involves lots of waiting around, which J is quite used to by now. He is very good at travelling for a toddler. He completed a whole CBeebies magazine full of activities and ate a fair amount of sandwiches.
On our journey home, we got to the station 45 minutes before our train was due to arrive, so we made ourselves at home in the waiting room. J is a very sociable little boy, which sometimes worries me a little as he will approach just about anyone to ask them what their name is and to tell them all about himself, proudly pointing out who his mummy is. This time, he chose to approach two women to interrupt their conversation by introducing himself. Now J also likes to dance and when he dances he likes to get down on the floor and spin around. I had recently told him that this was called “breakdancing” and he took great pride in showing these two women his wonderful skills. But then, something new:
“Oh, I should get behind the curtain!” He uttered as he took himself into the corner of the waiting room, peeking out from an imaginary stage curtain. He waited a moment before pushing aside the “curtain”, strutting onto centre stage opposite the amused women, stood very tall with his arms firmly by his sides and said in the a very clear and loud stage voice, much like you would hear at the primary school nativity play “And now, its time for the ‘I Like To Move It, Move It’ song!” and sang “I like to move it, move it. I like to move it, move it. I like to move it, move it. I like to…MOVE IT!” whilst jumping around, thrusting out alternate arms and legs.
The women were both amazed and amused at this impromptu entertainment and dutifully clapped away as I sat there, so proud of my son who already at 3 years old shows so much confidence in himself and is totally opposite to the shy, quiet and awkward little girl I was at his age. I must have had the stupidest grin on my face, but I didnt care, it really was a moment to remember.
And a few days later, I received a confirmation letter that J has been accepted into one of the best primary schools in the area, the same one I attended as a little girl. In September, he will begin attending every morning and seeing him on his new uniform, raring to go with not a glance backwards towards me will be another moment of such pride. He is more than ready to start school and I know that he will make lots of friends.