Growing pains

I paid my last cheque to The Sunshine Nursery today as Evie has left – boo hoo. What fun she’s had there. I remember chatting to Gill the manager when I was deciding to send Evie there, and she asked me if I minded if Evie got paint on her or got messy. I replied ‘That’s what being two is for isn’t it?’ and I knew then that we were on the same wavelength. I think that this sums Sunshine up – it’s all about children being children, not about looking swish and ticking boxes or whatever. Put simply, it looks like so much fun when you pick up your little one. Things you want to play with yourself – little plastic pigs and cows on a muddy puddle surrounded by squares of turf (how much fun is that?) - homemade painted paper bunting all around the garden; the long eared rabbit looking through the patio door from the lounge; special scones brought home in a special paper basket decorated with special flowers; play doh pizzas set out on plates; sunflowers and beans being watched and measured by intensive little farmers. It makes you a bit jealous really.

I can’t avoid mentioning the singing!! It’s like living in a musical. I haven’t been there for it but I’ve heard the overflow – ‘Five currant buns from the bacon shop’ …. ‘mix the compost, wiggle it around, soil needs feedin’ just like YOU’ …. ‘ we’re gonna catch a big one, we’re not scared’…. ‘Hello E-vie, hello Lu-cy, hello Nem-ma, hello Felica…liza-beth’ ….. on and on it goes, when we’re out in the car or she’s day dreaming on the loo or pottering round the garden. It makes me sad to think at some point she’ll realise it’s not cool to sing to yourself when you’re out and about, but for now – thank you Sunshine because you’re such a happy place! The staff still manage to be enthusiastic at the nativity every single year, and still shed a tear when the big ones leave – well to me, that says a lot: it’s more than just a job for them.

So let’s start up one for adults! Or at least let’s start a revolution and sing loudly to ourselves in public. It will at least help me get over this painful little fact though, that my weeny girl is ready for shiny shoes and big school. (sigh…)