In exactly a month form now we will wake up in the morning like we always do, but instead of lying in bed, playing ‘monsters’ and telling silly ‘poo bum’ jokes, I will be packing her lunch, brushing her hair and putting on her uniform. Instead of lazing around until 11 then slowly making our way to a café, then having a play at the park or the beach or whatever takes our fancy that day, I’ll be rushing her out the door at 9:25, hoping that if we run fast enough I’ll have her to the school gates by 9:30. I still can’t wrap my head around it. It will undoubtedly take a lot of getting used to. I still don’t know how I will cope with that first day. Every instinct is telling me I’ll break down into an inconsolable, weeping heap. Which means I probably won't shed a tear. I’m funny like that. All the biggest moments in my life, the moments when I know I should be feeling something have been completely and utterly underwhelming. I know it will come later though. It will come when it’s least appropriate. I’ll be scanning my groceries at the checkout six months later when all of a sudden ‘Wild World’ by Cat Stevens will play through the store radio and I’ll collapse and start sobbing uncontrollably. You know? The type of crying that will make it hard for onlookers to determine if they should offer me a tissue or call an ambulance. Or just awkwardly step over me. I know Lamb will love school. I know it’s what’s best for her. I know she’ll make loads of friends and have so much fun. I also know I’ll miss her like crazy. I’ll miss my baby girl like crazy.