Well guys, here it is. Preschool. Next Tuesday is Sydney's first day.
I am a mixed bag right now. After a high-energy (her) morning, the biggest emotion I feel right now is relief. I am happy for my daughter. She is the type of child (and was this way as a baby too) who needs/wants to be entertained. It is very rare that she is content to just sit on the floor with books and toys and occupy herself. She is social! She loves interaction! And while I love that about her – don't get me wrong – there are times when I wish she would just go over there and PLAY and let me finish folding the laundry without getting all up in my grill. You know?
And so I am happy for her. I am so excited for her that she will go to a place two days a week for a three hour block when the answer to most of everything is "yes." Everything at her new preschool is for her. She can run around and touch EVERYTHING and there will be little people there who will engage with her and play with her and her teachers are just the coolest people. I mean what kid wouldn't love an adult who runs around the playground barefoot with a shovel, digging holes in the sand AND THEN fills those holes with water and black paint and toy dinosaurs and plays Tar Pit with them for upwards of an hour?!
The best part? I already know she fits in there. Since we went to "camp" there this summer it's already clear that she's going to thrive and do awesome there. It's a co-op preschool that is totally hippie-dippy, less structured and mostly play-based. It's a place where community among parents is not only encouraged, it's expected. It's also expected that parents have a presence there … John or I will be working parents there twice a month. Perfect for my wild Blonde Tornado who loves to get dirty and play. Perfect for us as parents: people who love community and are the weirdos who love getting our hands dirty at school with our kid and her buddies in the Tar Pit.
DUDE. Preschool is so awesome. It's so awesome that I'm already starting to think that we need to switch her from two days a week to three days a week and school hasn't even started yet. It doesn't look like Mommy & Me class is going to work out this year (it was supposed to be on Wed. mornings but we didn't get in), so my instinct is to just step up the Preschool Awesomeness.
Even so, last night as I was rocking Elijah to sleep I started fretting about NEXT year's preschool (how productive, I know!). I wondered to myself if I should try to get Syd on the list for the 4-year-old class at the more structured Private Presbyterian Preschool so she'd be more prepared to enter kindergarten as a very new 5-year-old. And then I worried about switching schools after a year and how and if that would affect her negatively. And then I started fretting about where she'd be going to kindergarten. Could I get her into the awesome public school a few miles from our house even though there is a less-appealing public elementary school just a block from our house? Would we even consider the private (and from all accounts awesome … and Expensive) Catholic school just a mile the other direction?
AND THEN all the sudden I was full-on freaking out about how to pay for college!
Anyway, preschool. It begins on Tuesday. Today I am full of hope and excitement for both myself and my daughter. It's going to be wonderful. She will learn to share! And write her name! And sit in a circle! And make friends! And have a blast! And I will have a little time with my boy, just the two of us. I will have a little time to fold laundry, all by my onesie. It will be good for us all.
But that doesn't mean I won't be bawling out my eyes in the parking lot in one short week. Because the preschooler? Once was this little blob of sweetness burrowed into my breast:
aaaand cue the waterworks.