I took Bean to school by myself this morning. We get to the metro station to see a tsunami of people coming out of the station – apparently the metro was down from our station (the terminus) all the way to Bessieres, which is 3 stations away from the train station. That’s more than a third of the line down. They got a replacement bus going, but we were packed like sardines, 6 deep across the width of the bus. I have to give mad props to the Bean, he was a really good boy but it threw our schedule to hell. In the end, we made it on time (with a few minutes to spare) but it was rough.
I’m really worried about my bean. He walked into school with a look of pure incomprehension on his face. It’s all so new, and it’s all in French. I really worry that the language barrier will make what should be a really exciting experience into something that he doesn’t like. My head tells me that he’s resilient enough to cope. I mean, he’s handled nursery without a problem, and he’s been really good with the whole move, so this is just one more thing that he’ll get used to. As long as mummy and daddy tell him that everything is ok, he’ll just go with the flow and do his own thing. My heart breaks though, when I see him walking into school with a tentative wave and a look around to make sure I’m still there.
He’s having a “full” day of school today. He’s going to have lunch in Morges. The “problem” is that it’s not actually at the school. The kids that are signed into school lunches get picked up and go somewhere else where all the schools send the kids to lunch. He knows what’s going to happen, and his teacher is going to make sure that he gets picked up. Again though, it’s a language thing. I worry. I’m sure it’ll all be fine, and that other kids in similar situations have gone through the process without issue, but he’s my bean, and I love him to bits, and I worry.
[Child, if you ever end up reading this when you’re older and stalking my old blog archives, you give me grey hairs but I love you to bits.]
