Tommy had his second morning at the crèche today. Erm – I say morning – I mean hour. At the beginning you leave your child for just an hour at a time so as not to be too brusque. Do you say brusque in English? I have a feeling you do but I should probably check before putting this out and looking too ridiculous but I know I won’t as it’s ten o’clock and Tommy has a heavy cold with wheezing (again) and will no doubt be waking me up throughout the night so I am aiming to be in bed, lights out, by ten-fifteen. Ha ha ha, fat chance, but nonetheless I’m still aiming to do so. I can even hear him coughing as I type so this might be hastily cut short. So … back to the crèche – Tommy went straight for the big plastic cars and tractors and tricycles in the playground as soon as we got throught the gate and barely looked at me when I said goodbye. He played outside for the whole hour – no whinging, no crying, no searching for Mamamama. I got to do the shopping, fill up with diesel and even persuade the vet to sell me a kill-all-fleas-within-the-hour tablet for Baloo who is yet again swamped with those nasty beasties. All that WITHOUT juggling ten kilos of very determined little boy wriggling in my arms/tugging on my skirt/ wandering off to fall down a staircase. It was very nice indeed. And even nicer to pick up a little boy who hadn’t cried one little bit and instead had taken the whole crèche social vibe in his stride. Thursday we’re trying for two hours. That is, two hours with my mobile phone close to hand just in case. This evening I phoned my sister to find out how my little nephew’s first day at school had gone. He hated all the bits with too many people in (assembly, lunchtime) and having never had a meal without his Mum or Dad, he wasn’t sure how to eat lunch on his own. He asked a teacher to accompany him but when my sister picked him up at the end of the day he said he was starving. She opened his lunchbox to find the smiley face cupcakes and dinosaur sandwiches barely touched. “That’s because they told me it was time to pack lunch away” he explained. He’s used to spending an easy hour or so eating lunch with his Mum and little sister and will now have to get used to belting it down before the bell rings and he has to move on to another activity. I find the crèche and the idea of timetables and rules bad enough but I’m already dreading little Tiger going to school.