My 5 year old looks older than his years. A lot older.
Last September I was bombarded with people asking him was he all set for Big School. He had just turned four.
In the supermarket his health was regularly asked after. I made the connection after the fourth “is he sick?” People assumed he wasn’t well and was off school. He had just turned four.
Now that he is in Big School, last week a mum thought it was lovely he was in the classroom checking on his little brother. Anther wide-eyed and taken aback reaction when I said that he was the actual Naíonán Beaga (Junior Infant).
My 5 year old could pass for a 7 year old.
He is in school as I write this. Sitting at his bord (table) with the other paistí (children) learning how to count as Gaeilge (in Irish).
He cried a little going into his seomra ranga (classroom) this morning. And Monday. And Tuesday. His hugs are getting tighter. More frequent.
He tries to hide his upset from his múinteoir (teacher) and classmates but doesn’t quite manage it.
Today might be Wednesday, mid-week, but my 5 year old is not over the hump yet.