Time to take the bus….

Time to take the bus….

The speed with which my children grow is always amazing to me.

It doesn’t seem two minutes since I lay in a hospital bed marveling at the two tiny beings in my arms, but yet a lifetime has passed since then.

Suddenly we are hurtling towards the end of primary school, their shoes have worn thin and I refuse to replace at this point in the term.  They are craving independence, pushing boundaries and I am knocked off kilter.

For the first time this week, they took the bus.

To “big school” – for a few transition days.

It was awful, it was fab.

Molly woke me at 7am on Monday with bacon and eggs.

Look what I made!

For a moment I was excited to get breakfast in bed, until I realised that she was merely showing me her breakfast rather than giving me mine.

They left the house bursting with excitement, I was crippled with worry.

What if the bus doesn’t give change? what if they miss the stop?  what if someone is mean to them?

And lets not even go there on my diabetic fears.

I watched them walk for the bus, and they melted from my view and my mind became full of images of when they were tiny.  When Owen would strut around the house as Molly would refuse to move and he would fetch and carry for her at will.  Her man-servant at the age of 14 months.

I recalled when they were born and Molly was a tiny 5lb 2 and Owen snuggled next to her a giant 7lb 40z.  When they were content to simply play together, and the times when they tried to kill each other.

They were champing at the bit to go to school, to walk alone on the street, to ride away to another town – without me.

As they left the house, Molly stood taller than her brother, but more fearful in her step.  I watched, as my heart broke a little, as he walked close to her and said ‘don’t worry, it will be fine.’

Together they walked away.

Without me.

Moving through life, growing up, and loving the new-found freedom.

They are so ready for the next chapter of their lives, and I would rather we restarted the book.

I am going to squeeze every moment of fun out of this summer as I cling on to still being one of their favourite people to spend time with…

But at least they will always have each other.




  1. July 5, 2017 / 10:05 am

    Oh Jane, I am not sat here sobbing big hot tears. Mini starts transition on Monday and he will be getting the bus for the first time. Part of me is shitting myself and the other is delighted. I am totally conflicted!

  2. July 12, 2017 / 11:32 am

    I find each new bit of freedom scary and elating at the same time. I’m happy for them enjoying the extra freedom, I’m happy for my own extra bit of freedom as they gain their next bit of extra independence, but with a horrible dash of fear running through it all.

    It does get easier. Mine is nearly 16, sometimes she swans off for the day somewhere all independent and I get busy and don’t even think of her existence for hours, I literally seem to forget that she’s out there in the world.

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