We’re in our local park on a sunny, brisk October weekend and my son has just run over to me in bright red all-in-one waterproofs, his hair slicked down to his head looking like a beautiful, ecstatic selkie.

‘Excuse me, do you know your little boy is sticking his head right under the water pump?’ The grandma puckers her mouth in disapproval at our son’s choice of playtime activity. I smile and laugh in response. ‘Oh we know! He does it everytime.’ I know her disapproval is as much concern that he’ll ‘catch his death’ and I don’t want to get into a debate about child rearing. Let her get on with unnecessarily anxiously hovering around her granddaughter on the rope ladder though the kid is climbing like she’s been trained by the SAS.

Kerry Hudson on her son's preschool Swedish adventures (Image: free)

In six weeks, our family is moving to Sweden, and we’ll no doubt be in another play park. My son will still be a four-year-old who loves dunking his head in water, making mud pies and rolling around in whatever dirt he can find - part feral animal, part boy.

People have said often, ‘Another move?! I can’t keep up with you all!’ And they are absolutely right. This is our fourth city in four years thanks to my needing access to specific, life-saving medical services and housing precarity. But, our kid’s........

© Herald Scotland