Today is the day I’ve been fantasising about for months (and, after six weeks of having my lovely daughters with me virtually 24/7, dreamed about!). My youngest daughter has gone to school for the first time. And I feel so, so weird.

I know I’ll get used to it; after all, having a good chunk of alone time three days a week to write book 3 of Little Somerby, and reclaim some of the things I’ve been promising myself (take more exercise, keep the house tidy, walk the dog solo, read more, etc etc) is a luxury a lot of people don’t get. And I’m sure, by Thursday (my next day at home), I’ll have a plan and a list of things to do. But for today, I’ve basically eaten toast and biscuits, listened to the radio and felt quite sad. I also had a lovely post school run breakfast with some friends in the same boat, which definitely helped a lot, and might just become A Thing.

It wasn’t like this with daughter #1; I knew she was ready, and actually, because I still had daughter #2 at home with me, I wasn’t alone. But seeing #2 walking in, clutching the hand of her Year 5 buddy for the first time…I didn’t cry, but I just felt, I don’t know…redundant. After four years of having two days a week at home with her, it feels like an ending.

This, of course, I’ll get over; probably the second I pick her up and the “Muuummmmmeeee!” starts again. But it’s been a funny old day without her. With just me, the dog and Radio 5 live for company (can’t live without 5 live!). I shall allow myself just one day of melancholy; Thursday will be planned, executed and productive. But for today, I shall be sad. It’s the end of an era.