This past year was our first experience with preschool and it turned out to be lot more SCHOOL than I had anticipated.
My son’s preschool is part of a program that goes through high school and is treated accordingly. The uniforms, the fund raising, the homework*… He only goes twice a week, but it seemed like a bit much.
When I pick him up before lunch, he’s happy to see me. Not TOO happy like he’s relieved. It’s more like joy over having such an awesome day.
“Surprise! Look, what I made for you,” he says as he pulls out each and every drawing and macaroni craft to show me. As thrilled as I am to see this impressive mountain work, I want a thorough report on everything he did, ate, touched…
When I ask what he did today, he just says, “Everything!”
Who are his friends? Are they nice to him? Who are their parents?
I DON’T KNOW!
I expected there to be more hand-holding and a slow easing-in process. I wanted there to be more “getting to know you” and a fair amount of indulgence. This is preschool, after all.
“Oh, you’d be surprised what kids can handle at this age. Besides, Mrs. M is incredible!” another mother cooed.
“I wasn’t talking about the kids. I was talking about ME!”
In today’s post for the Silicon Valley Moms Blog, I talk about navigating my way through the preschool scene in a way that seems all too familiar. It’s like I’ve been here before except with better abs and far worse skin.
(Cue the “Twilight Zone” theme.)
* Yes, I KNOW. My preschooler has homework and before you say anything about it, consider where we live…
I too thought it was outrageous when I first heard about it. I would have protested had I not been sitting in a very teeny tiny chair while wearing a very poorly chosen tight skirt for “Back to School Night”…
Turns out, what preschool homework basically amounts to is a coloring sheet or two with some letters to trace. Not sweating it. Now, if only I remembered to make sure it made it back to school half the time.