PlaySchool

My Little Dude started PlaySchool this week.

The tears welling up behind my eyes were ridiculous. It is only one morning per week and it's definitely time. He is increasingly keen on playing with other kids and learning new things, and I can see that our life at home was becoming too small for him.

It must be said that he loved it. He used to be quite reserved when he was younger, but that's all over now. He raced straight to the playhouse there and showed absolutely no reluctance or nerves. He played with the other children happily and chatted confidently to the workers.

I was proud of him, actually. Some parents seem to go on and one about their children, who apparently are budding geniuses. My Little Dude is a bright kid, but what I like about him has nothing to do with who he will be or future success. It's all about who he is. He plays and climbs and explores with huge energy and commitment. He seems to have more fun, to enter into things more fully, than most people. He has a very joyful, uninhibited laugh. I wish I still laughed like that.

Adults comment on his lovely manners - he says "please" and "thank you" very nicely - but what I really like is his open heart. If other kids come over when he is playing with his cars, he doesn't hunch over the cars and try to keep the competition at bay. He smiles in a very friendly way and says, "Want to play?" and hands them a car. When one of them falls over and cries, he looks distressed and tries to comfort them, saying "It's alright, it's okay", and strokes their hair gently.

But he is out in the world, now, my little open-hearted boy. The big, bad, hard-hearted world. He has to go, I want him to go, but I wonder what it will do to him.

Somehow, the outsized backpack he proudly chose for himself, the symbol of his new independence, makes him look very small.