On the first day of your last year of pre-school

Lily, you're finally back at pre-school after what feels like the worlds longest summer holiday.

On exactly this day last year I was packing, probably over packing, your rucksack in the evening (healthy lunch - check, spare clothes - check, hat, scarf & gloves - check, a list of emergency contact numbers - check) and trying not to cry at the thought of letting someone else enjoy your company for 2 and a half days of the week.

When we left for nursery this time last year you were still so little in my eyes. You were shy around new people and you needed help getting your coat and shoes on. You still had accidents more days than not and you still asked for a story every night before bed. I dressed you that morning and wondered whether I was making the right decision and I sat in the nearby Starbucks for hours after I dropped you off. Mainly because I couldn't bear to go all the way home incase you needed me to come back.

12 months on and things couldn't be more different.

These days you're very much a preschooler. You can dress yourself and no longer have accidents. You're insanely confident and sociable and love the company of others and most nights of the week you want to tuck yourself in and then you're asleep before I can even suggest a story.

This morning I dont wonder whether I'm making the right decision. This time round I'm watching you run into the classroom, straight to your peg to take off your coat and I dont feel nervous at all. I dont need to be. You're grinning because your new peg picture this year is a robin and you much prefer it to the starfish picture you had last year. You give me a quick hug then run off to take part in morning circle time and I find myself looking back, exactly like I did on this morning last year. Only this time it's not to check your okay, it's just to proudly watch you from afar for a few seconds before I head home.

All this change in a year. 12 little months. And it makes me wonder what you'll be like by next September. All ready to start school, in your uniform. And I'll be back to being nervous as hell. Oh god. I can't even go there yet.

You're not my little girl anymore.
You are.
But in so many ways, you're not.

You're so beautiful Lily. You're so fiercly independent and intelligent and every inch of me is proud of you.

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