How else could I possibly begin this without a quote from Dr. Seuss? My tiny, preemie baby is grown enough to start preschool. To have a teacher. To make friends. To participate in stimulating discussions about fruits and vegetables. Words from Oh, The Places You’ll Go are quite appropriate here.
It feels somewhat silly to be this emotionally torn over something as simple as spending six hours a week in what is basically a playgroup. He hasn’t received his drivers license or signed an apartment lease, no. But the problem with these little baby steps is knowing they are leading to bigger steps. I know the first day of preschool drop off will soon be followed by Kindergarten drop off and that try as I may, I cannot stop the clock.
And I don’t want to stop the clock. His learning and growing are a beautiful thing to watch, but I wouldn’t mind a pause button sometimes.
I left him in the care of a total stranger whom I had met once, in a place he had never been, with not one familiar face and I left. And then I panicked. Why had those things not occurred to me before? That he would feel abandoned, scared, confused and worried. Ohmygosh this was a horrible idea, I thought. My eyes filled up and overflowed and I couldn’t stop the stream.
I watched the clock all morning waiting for pick-up time, certain I would forget to pick him up and then all of his fears would be validated. So instead I was 15 minutes early, lurking outside of the school watching him play in the sandbox outside.
His teacher said he did wonderful, that she couldn’t believe how outgoing he is for a kid that has never been in childcare. He jumped right in and participated in their circle time discussions, played with others and was really funny. When they brought in eggs for a morning snack he told them that people don’t eat eggs for snacks, they eat cookies.
He is excited to go back and I hope nothing ever gives him a reason to feel otherwise.
You are off to great places. You’re off and away.
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