Just like that, summer is over. We’re home.
What felt like eternity when we boarded the plane on the 22nd June for eleven weeks in the green, green lands of home, actually sped by pretty past. Roll forward to the 11th September and we were boarding the plane home.
And it’s like we’ve never been gone.
Qatar has embraced us all, with a fairly sweaty and dusty, hug to welcome us back to the sandpit.
Back to reality of my mum no longer cooking our tea every night, no daily glass of wine to wind down and no pork pies.
The alarms ringing at 5:30am signalling it’s time to get up, get dressed and get out. Work, school, nursery. All are back and the house stands quiet.
Today I picked up my son’s school report
As we left on the last day of term today was the first chance I have had to pick up my eldest’s school report from his first year in preschool.
Tearing it open in the car after I dropped him off and scanning through the various sections to see how my baby did during his first year away from me.
My heart filled with joy reading section after section, seeing how is growing up. Noticing that the little things we do at home filter into school. His love of show and tell. The way he is gentle and caring with books. What his favourite story and songs are.
I was delighted to realise that he was a joy at school, as much as he is at home, a friendly popular little boy who has none of the social anxieties that I worried myself sick over the nights leading up to school.
He loves school, and school loves him.
Yet (and there had to be a yet) he struggles still. When presented with a new situation, a new person, or a new task he believes that he cannot do it.
And so he won’t.
A lack of self confidence
We have seen it time and again with him. When he shied away in the corner at football, barely making eye contact. The parkrun where he was so excited, until all the other children arrived. Swimming where he needs to have the ability to put his feet on the floor. Riding a bike.
A fierce, determined, I CAN’T DO IT, bursting forward from him.
And I know that in time he will do all of these things. That he needs to watch, observe and understand before joining in. That he will transform from cautious child to being right in the middle of things in a matter of time.
What breaks my heart is that he is so sure he is in his belief that he can’t. The pain in the moment.
And I don’t know what to we can do to help him.
We praise, we support, we build him up. Well done, congratulations, you can do it, look how far you’ve come when you put your mind to it. All phrases that have sprung from our lips.
What would YOU like to try? Would YOU like to do this? What do YOU think? Shall Mummy join? Or Daddy? We can do it together. We’re here, we’re watching, we’re supporting.
The joy in his face, as he completes tasks he previously dismissed as impossible, is like rainbows dancing out all around him. Soaking in the praise and the warmth.
That’s what I want to see each day. The beaming smile.
I just need to work out the best way to help him build that confidence up.