Spider-boy has a place, and for that in our over subscribed borough we have decided to be grateful. A place at the school closest to his house, which might not be one of the darlings of schooling folk lore but looks safe, and normal, and colourful and fun. Phew.
For all my waxing lyrical, and residual worries about the new mountain of angst (making friends, losing touch with other local friends, learning things, having fun, being challenged, how the hell we’ll sort out childcare) from here on in we are saying, regardless of OFsted labels, that this is good. Excellent, in fact, and very exciting.
Spider-boy has his usual arch take on the entire exercise thankfully devoid of my penchant for drama and insanity. He is more than little disappointed that the school uniform is not his favourite colour, and that he isn’t going somewhere with everyone he plays with at nursery every day. But he says it will be all right as he knows what happens at school. You have to listen ALL DAY, apparently. He assures me he’s on it.