Fact or Fiction? . . . With Kids, Hard to Tell!

FACT: My oldest started preschool last week. So far she loves it, and has shown no signs of separation anxiety. No tears! (From me or her.)

FACT: I'm not surprised by her ability to jump right in and have no issues during drop off. (Although, I'm very aware that this could change at any time.) I am surprised that I didn't lose my cool on her first day and cry her entire class a river to play in. I purposely wore no eye makeup that morning because I was 99.9% sure this would happen. I must have looked like real crap considering I was up at 4:30 AM just thinking about leaving her. FACT: I had far more anxiety than she did.

After dropping her off I had a brief orientation, then a full hour to myself. My mother in law was watching my youngest and I was at a complete loss . . . I was kid free?! What should I do? . . . I ran a quick errand and got coffee. It was the best coffee I've had in a long time. It was hot, unlike the coffee that sits on my counter every morning waiting for me to chug down in between making breakfast, cleaning up and getting my kids dressed. I enjoyed it, but at the same time I watched my car clock like a hawk. I was counting down the minutes until it was time to head back to school and hear all about Lanie's day. I arrived early, and was welcomed back by the center director. She told me the kids were outside and encouraged me to take a peek out the window. I watched her play. FACT: This brought a huge smile to my face.

She was happy to see me waiting when she walked in, and was excited to tell me about all the fun stuff she did on the car ride home.

This is where fact and fiction get hard to decipher. She told me she played with boys called twins. This is a fact. I met them when I dropped her off, and she was quick to head over and play blocks with them. She told me she loved using scissors. (Something I have not done with her.) She showed me the motions of using a scissors, and said she needed some of her own for at home. "I need my own scissors, golden ones. I need to cut Charlotte's hair." This is a FACT: she did not learn how to use scissors from me. It's also a fact that we'll stick to using scissors at school, at least for now. We don't need her younger sister getting any unwanted haircuts. She told me that her whole class went to Marshall's to buy new shoes. I'm 100% sure that this is FICTION, but it gave me a good laugh.

On her second day she was not as quick to offer up info about her morning. That's when I drilled her for it. (Bad idea.) "Did you have fun?" "What did you do?" "What are your new friends names?" This is what I got: "YES, I HAD FUN." "I got green marker on my shirt and it made me angry." "My new best friend is Polka Dot, okay?!" I'm pretty sure the had fun part was a FACT, and that she was just angry that I was asking her so many questions all at once. The green marker on her shirt was a FACT, and she was beyond pissed about it. I explained to her that its okay to get dirty, dirty means fun! Plus your mom is a master with a stain stick . . . relax! (She's a little prissy when it comes to getting dirty sometimes . . . we're working on that.) As far as "Polka Dot" goes, I'm pretty sure that's FICTION. Although, I should ask her teachers for a class list. You never know with all the   unique names people come up with these days. My sincere apologies if your reading this and have a "Polka Dot" of your very own.

All and all preschool has been a big hit for all of us . . . except for my youngest who is upset that she isn't old enough to go to preschool yet! (Nothing that some munchkins from Dunkin Donuts can't take care of.)

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School Daze

'Tis the season for those dreaded back to school commercials on TV. I guess some things never change. I personally was never a huge fan of school, but sometimes I find myself missing certain things about going. I never passed classes with flying colors, I got by. I had fun. If you could slap a grade on the social aspect of it all, I would have gotten an A+. You see, school is where I made a good majority of my friends. Some that I still have today. Well here I am, and those so called back to school commercials are here to haunt me, again. Except now for my daughters sake. No, I take that back. . . for my sake.
 

In just 336 hours, I hand my first born over to be under the care of others. I may be a little shaky with my math skills, (remember, I was more of a socializer) but who's counting. Okay, I'm not that obsessed that I'm counting down hours, but I am counting down the days. In 2 weeks, my child will start a new chapter. . . PRESCHOOL! I wish more than anything that I could be the parent that is jumping for joy and making up back to school, or in my case off to school jingles and jigs about shipping my kid off, but I'm not. It's only preschool though, so we've got a ways to go. I refuse to give up hope yet.

I have been so fortunate to be able to stay at home with my girls. This has by far been the most rewarding, challenging, tiring job that I have ever had. Parenting in general is, but I love it. I smile a lot, laugh a lot, and some days I just want to cry. I worked in a daycare for a little over 16 years. I was the teacher that you would hand your child over to, and I'd tell you on their first day that everything was going to be okay. . . and it was. It was great. Now that I'm on the other side of the fence, handing my child over, it's a whole different ballpark. Although, my kid thinks it's pretty awesome. For months now she has been saying that she's going to "college". Woah! Slow down! You're only three and you're going to preschool for a whopping two mornings, and a total of six hours a week ('Cause that's all your mother can handle right now.)

Last week a "Welcome to Preschool" letter arrived in the mail for Lanie. Even though I wanted to cry I put on a damn good front, and I jumped up and down with excitement right beside her. The letter suggested some essential items to start the school year off with, one being a backpack for storing artwork. She did not hesitate when saying she wanted a butterfly backpack. You bet your butt I ordered her one that night. Not only with butterflies, but with her name sewn on.  When it came in the mail we opened it, the jumping up and down with excitement started all over again. Then, I excused myself to go to the bathroom where I cried for a minute, and came out jumping up and down with my excited face on. I can tell you this much, becoming a parent has brought out a whole other side of me that I never knew existed. I'm a sap.

On a good note, I'm very happy that she is so excited to go off to preschool. I know she will do great. The time away will be good for both of us, and maybe she'll stop drawing "friends" on my back door with sticky Popsicle sticks (her latest hobby). I give it a month, and I'll bet my three year old has a better social life than me, and that's okay. . . I'll probably be exhausted from driving her around to play dates anyway.

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