Lil’ L has started school on Monday, Petite Pea has settled well into her nursery routine, and I just finished my first cup of truly hot coffee and toast in a very long time. I’d love to say I am enjoying my newly found me-time, but I am struggling.
Sending my 4yo to school (no matter if French école maternelle or English primary school) and seeing her in any kind of classroom setting feels fundamentally wrong. My continental European heart and soul scream at the thought of her learning to read and write instead of jumping in muddy puddles, collecting leaves and counting bugs.
Struggling our way past the daily commuters that spill out of the tube station and into our way, it feels as if we have become part of them – part of the daily grind, part of putting up with the stress that comes with living in London, part of living for the weekend. Is this what I want?