September feels more like new year than new year does.

I know January is technically the start of a new year, but I’ve never really felt like it is. For me, the year has always started in September. I was in education until I was 22 and then worked in education until I had the kids, so September has been the beginning of a new year for most of my life. It’s just ingrained in me. New pencil case, new notebooks, new pens, new timetable, new teachers, new classroom. That slightly strange feeling of going back after the summer when you’re excited to see everyone but also slightly nervous about what the new year is going to bring.

I still remember the excitement of getting all my new school things. There was something about having a brand new pencil case and filling it with shiny new pens that made me genuinely believe I was going to be organised that year. I obviously never was. There was the new uniform, new shoes that were far too clean, and that first morning when everything felt different. Even now, I only ever buy academic diaries. January to December just doesn’t make sense to me. Why would I want a diary that starts halfway through my year?

I also still work out people’s ages by what school year they would have been in. Not necessarily that they were born in the same year as me, but that they were the year above me or the year below me. I’m 40 fucking years old, and apparently my brain still needs to put grown adults into secondary school year groups before it can work out where they fit. I don’t think I’m ever going to grow out of that.

Then I had children, and September took on a whole new meaning. I remember their first school Septembers, the tiny uniforms and shoes, the bags that looked enormous on them and the mixture of excitement and nerves. The first school runs, the first teachers, the first friends, the first time they came home absolutely knackered and told me about their day. Then came moving up a year, new classrooms, new teachers, and watching them slowly become more independent. There has always been something quite emotional about September when you’re a parent because you’re reminded that another year has passed and somehow your children have grown again.

And this September feels particularly significant because it’s our first one in the new house. We’ve only been here a short while, so this will be our first proper autumn here too, and I’m really looking forward to seeing the countryside change around us. When you live surrounded by fields and trees, I think you’re much more aware of the seasons. You can’t really miss the leaves changing or the light changing or the mornings getting colder. You actually get to watch it happen.

There are some big changes for the kids this September too. Elizabeth is starting a completely new school because of the amalgamation, which is a pretty big thing when you’re little. New building, new people, new routines, and finding her place all over again. Then there’s Ben starting high school, which frankly I’m not quite ready for. I swear I blinked, and he went from little school shoes and a tiny backpack to being old enough for high school. Harrison is at the other end of it. If he were still in school, he’d be going into his final year. That’s a strange one to get my head around too. Somehow I have one child starting a brand new school, one starting high school and another who would be heading into his final year. How the hell did that happen?

The mornings are already starting to feel different. My morning coffee needs a cardigan on now. That’s probably the most accurate measurement of the changing seasons I have. It’s not properly cold yet, and knowing Wales, we’ll probably get another random spell of sunshine when we least expect it, but there’s a little crispness in the air that wasn’t there a few weeks ago. The leaves are slowly starting to change too, although we’re still mostly surrounded by green at the moment.

I think living here is going to make autumn one of my favourite times of year. We’re close to the famous bridge and tea room in Llanrwst, and I already know that when the trees around there turn properly red, orange and yellow, it’s going to be bloody beautiful. I can imagine walking past and stopping to take yet another photo because the colours have changed again. I’m probably going to become that person who takes a picture of the same view every week just to see how quickly it changes.

And autumn sunsets just hit differently. Maybe it’s because they’re earlier and we actually get to see them without staying up until stupid o’clock, but there’s something about the colours at this time of year. Those pink, orange and golden skies against the hills and trees are going to be something else from here.

I think that’s why September has always felt more like a new year to me. January feels like pressure. New year, new me, lose weight, get organised, sort your life out, become a better person. September doesn’t really feel like that. It’s just always felt like the start. You get back into routines, the kids move up a year, you start thinking about what you’ve got coming up and suddenly you’re buying notebooks again despite having a drawer full of perfectly good ones at home.

And this year there’s even more going on. A new house, Elizabeth starting a new school, Ben starting high school, and Harrison reaching the point where, if he were still in school, he’d be going into his final year. It feels like a lot of change all at once, but then I suppose that’s September. It always has been.