Single mum Tori shares her reflections on the back-to-school routine

So here we are, the final stretch! Back to school next week!

Some parents seem to have been ready for this moment from before the school holidays even began. Haircuts were booked months ago, uniforms purchased and ironed before you went on holiday. Shoes are polished. Everything’s labelled.

I am not this type of parent. The closest I’ve ever come to labelling anything was trying to put a neat line through daughter one’s name, when daughter two inherited her cardigan (A name she had written there herself).

If organisation were a sport, and the annual back-to-school routine, the Olympics, then my best friend is Simone Biles. The absolute GOAT. By contrast, I am the spectator at the back who managed to nab the final seat by sheer luck. We may be in the same building, but no-one’s here for my performance!

But this year, things have been different.

Way back in June I booked haircuts for all three of my children for the end of August. Without the hairdresser reminding me.

During the very first weekend of the holidays I washed the uniforms, clearly itemising the things that needed buying.

Over the last month, not only have I bought the required amount of shoes way before the delivery cut-off, which is unheard of, but also cleared out and donated anything we can no longer use.

After being a parent for over a decade, it seemed that I’d finally started to get the hang of this back-to-school routine. Perhaps years spent marvelling at my best friend had finally rubbed off on me… I even started to think about buying a label-maker.

But when my friend tactfully asked if everything was alright, as I didn’t seem like myself, I realised that something was wrong.  My newfound organisation had brought a feeling of dread. I had a lingering sadness that I couldn’t shake.

This has been a particularly difficult year, and as a single parent, there are plenty of things to feel frustrated and anxious about. How is the new government going to tackle the issues facing single parents? Are they going to remove the 2-child cap? Is the cost of living ever going to come down?  And while I don’t for a second minimise any of these issues, in fact, I feel passionate about raising the profile of single parents, I knew this wasn’t the source of my disquiet.

And then it hit me

My eldest is going into her last year of primary school. Year 6 beckons.

This new school year is going to herald the start of a new chapter for my family. In a few weeks’ time we’ll be off to the open evenings of the local secondary schools to weigh up our options. There’ll be SATs and her first school residential next summer. I’ll open the email next spring to find out if she gets the school she wants, and I’ll fill out all the forms (so many forms!) all over again.

But unlike when she started primary school, this time it will only be me taking her to look round. Only me who will be asking the questions. Only my name on the forms.

And I’m terrified

What if I don’t ask the right questions? What if I forget a really important detail? What if my computer crashes at the exact moment I have to submit the school preferences, I accidentally open a portal into another universe, aliens invade, and Armageddon is thrust upon us all?! What if, what if, what if… what if I’m not good enough?

And there it is. The fear that over the last few years, I’ve learned to tame. In navigating life with my three amazing children, I’ve grown in confidence. I walk taller than I did when life first came crashing down, I don’t apologise that’s it’s ‘only’ me anymore. I’ve done this with the love and support of my closest friends – new and old – who have caught me when I’ve stumbled and celebrated my children’s milestones (first steps, trophies, a particularly perfect Dutch braid). I’ve been incredibly lucky that I’ve been able to share triumphs large and small. I know my experience of being a mum has been made so much richer for this.

But this summer, as I stand on the precipice of our next stage, the enormity of the decisions ahead have brought a loneliness that perhaps only a single parent can understand. All the support in the world can’t completely shield me from the fact that all the big decisions rest with me alone.

And trusting myself to get these things right is perhaps the hardest lesson I’m learning.

So, I’ve decided to approach the challenges ahead with a deep breath, remembering that the bravery I’ve shown in the past that has got us all through to this point, and with immense gratitude that I’m supported in all my naturally disorganised glory.

I no longer have any plans to buy a label-maker.