Tag: toddler

The wrong kind of nursery school…

So I’m trying to find a nursery for my daughter. She’ll be three this year and I’m finally starting to feel as though she’ll get something out of going there, although it will break my heart to let go of her just a little bit. It didn’t suit me to send her at a very young age but that means I still have to go through the wrench of leaving her in the care of nursery teachers. Terrifying. I didn’t know what I wanted out of a nursery but I’m starting to get a strong feeling of what I DON’T want as I visit and shortlist or rule out schools. Here’s my list of don’t wants so far…

1. I don’t want my daughter to wear a school uniform at the age of freakin’ 3!!
2. I don’t want my daughter to be fed the kind of shit I’ve spent the last 27 months carefully avoiding
3. I don’t want my daughter to be cooped up all day in a windowless room
4. I don’t want my daughter to be cooped up all day in a 1m x 1m box
5. I don’t want my daughter to be left to ‘cope with her own feelings’ of sadness/loneliness/hurt, etc at the age of freakin’ 3!!
6. I don’t want my daughter to be ‘selected’ for primary school. I mean, c’mon, how much pressure do you want to heap on these kids ffs?!

I’m sure I will be adding to this list over the coming weeks. Right now, home schooling is starting to look like a more attractive option! Sigh…

Exceeding my expectations

Last Sunday I underestimated my daughter in the swimming pool. We have recently changed groups and jumped a few stages so that my two-year-old is now the youngest in a class of three and four-year-olds. The lesson was going along nicely, as usual, when the teacher suddenly asked the parents to line up and form a tunnel – by arching the ‘woggles’ (long floats shaped a bit like a pencil) – of about 2m long. It dawned on me as I was wobbling into position that the kids were going to be asked to swim with their woggles, from the teacher at one end to the parent at the other. My toddler had never performed a feat of such independence in the water and I was anxious.

When it came to our turn I conspiratorially eyed the teacher and whispered that I didn’t think my daughter could achieve this task as she’d never done it before. The teacher shrugged and urged me to give it a go. I placed an eager child into her arms and walked to the other end of the tunnel, nervous and doubtful.

As I looked at my little girl she was beaming. The teacher let go of her and I called at her to ‘kick, kick, kick!’ I needn’t have said anything. She came bobbing towards me, kicking her little legs and paddling her little hands as fast as they would go, cheered on by the line of mums. Seconds later she was in my arms, begging to do it again.

I learned so much about how well and quickly she absorbs information and how her little brain is soaking up more than I’d ever imagined. I’ll try very hard not to underestimate her again. On the other hand, there are few feelings so wondrous as being surprised by my daughter’s eagerness and confidence to try new things. Already, at twenty-six months, she could teach me a thing or two.