Every time I say "preschool" I start singing the song from Sesame Street's 'Preschool Musical' bit and I KNOW YOU DO IT TOO
We all went to preschool this morning and it was, if I may say so myself, a Tremendous Success. I mean, it was only preschool orientation and it's not like we fussed over our clothes the night before and drove with butterflies in our stomachs and bawled the minute we stepped inside the classroom (Jack) or the minute we got back in the car (me). No no no, we ALL went to preschool and we stayed maybe an hour and then we all went home together and discussed, almost seriously, whether or not we should send Molly too.
I picked a good one you guys. Sure sure, it hasn't started yet, it was only orientation, what do we really know, but two of the parents raved - no, RAVED - about the school, and the teachers have all been there a combined forty gazillion years and not once did Jack hang on us or whine or stand back or hide behind our legs. No, he dove right into the paint and the play dough and the blocks and at one point I saw him take one of the teachers by the hand and drag her across the room, demanding that she admire his artwork.
Of course this MAYBE had something to do with the fact that only two of the other preschoolers showed up with their parents for orientation and those two preschoolers plus two baby sisters (one of them being Molly) were the only other kids in the room. Since Jack's main complaint about any social setting is "too many kids", orientation was working in our favor. Also! There are only six kids. SIX. The class will probably fill up (12 max) by winter break, so sayeth the teachers, but even that is good news. Because Jack can start out with a small, hardly intimidating group and can slowly get used to more and more kids. I was so SMART to sign him up for this class! GO ME!
There are three boys and three girls and half of them have names I don't know how to pronounce and I would totally print them here except for what if they are the only kids in the universe with these names (POSSIBLE!) and their mothers google them (ALSO POSSIBLE!) and find some other preschool parent clapping her hand over her mouth because GOOD LORD THESE NAMES.
ANYWAY. The other parents were super nice, and this made me realize two things about preschool that I hadn't Realized In Advance. (You know I like to realize in advance, right? It's a kind of Life Policy.) Those two things are:
1. Tuesday Thursday preschool means we won't hang out with our friends who go to Monday Wednesday Friday preschool or daycare. Which is, let me count, OH EVERYONE. And
2. Jack will not be the only one forced to socialize with the preschool set. WILL I HAVE TO MAKE FRIENDS TOO???
This is cause for MUCH hand wringing, Internet. Obviously I hadn't given enough thought to how preschool will affect ME. I mean, other than the whole childcare aspect of it which, come on, you are totally excited about that too I KNOW IT.
I'm just not sure what it's all going to BE like. I was talking to a friend the other day about how we aren't ALWAYS going to be at home with little kids and playdating and zoo-ing and playgrounding and packing off to Target whenever we feel like it. Soon enough our kids will be in SCHOOL and it will be a whole new world. The center will shift, you know, from home to school or whatever community we end up in and it will just be NEW. With NEW PEOPLE.
I have to say, all the preschool parents seemed Especially Nice, even if they all seemed to sort of know each other already, even if I am hopeless at coming up with Things To Chat About. (Tangent! So I have these neighbors that I'm constantly spying on, because it seems like nine hundred people live in their house and I can't figure it out and it fascinates me so (ask Liz who heard me drone on and on about the Neighbors Mystery for what? hours?) BUT TODAY THEY TALKED TO ME! It was amazing! The guy I thought was the dad IS the dad and he has FOUR kids and the puzzle pieces are fitting together! Also he would have totally gone on talking to me except I couldn't think of The Next Thing To Talk About so I just shuffled into my yard with my groceries and NEIGHBOR FAIL. I annoy myself so much.)
Aaaaanyway, all this means to you is: BLOG FODDER. Gosh I hope I don't have to end up Password Protecting. That would be LAME.
IN OTHER NEWS. My husband is thirty-two years of awesome tomorrow. He has a big test type thing happening at work (I know! a test at WORK!) which, I'm sure, he would appreciate your Happy Thoughts about, and then his wife may or may not have dinner ready for him when he comes home (happy thoughts about that too) and she's PRETTY sure she won't have a cake since he only likes vanilla cake with vanilla frosting and what is the point of making a cake like THAT? But she might be bothered to go pick up some cupcakes and she IS planning a lovely weekend and she will try very very hard not to let the fact that she nearly threw the children into Lake Washington that afternoon spoil their evening. Won't you throw him a happy birthday comment? He luuuurves it when he gets mentioned. I KNOW. It's ADORABLE.