Today was A’s first day of Year Seven. For her, it’s the start of high school, and she’s been excited about it for weeks. For M and me, it’s also a milestone: our youngest is now in high school.
For Americans, the translation is that “high school” here is closer to what would be middle school in the States. But regardless of labels, the feeling is the same. When T started last year, or whenever she reached some other milestone, my quiet consolation was always that A was still little. She hadn’t crossed that threshold yet, so I could still tell myself I had one more kid who wasn’t quite there.
Now that A has made the leap, that excuse is gone. My little baby is officially in high school. It’s a strange mix of pride, nostalgia, and the creeping realization that time really does move too fast.
Hopefully she had a good first day. She certainly looked adorable in the uniform, which feels like its own rite of passage.
Today’s musing is just me trying to catch up emotionally to where she already is: ready, eager, and growing up faster than I’d like.