I offically have a preschooler
Today was my son’s first day at preschool.
I was a little nervous. Partly because although he had been excited about the concept of preschool throughout the summer, at the “welcome day” (which was only an hour and zero pressure to conform), he didn’t want me to leave him alone. Hmm. And then partly because we had to get up really early and I didn’t want to be late, which I almost always inevitably am.
So I packed lunches and my bag the night before. I laid out clothes and attempted (but failed) to go to bed early. When I woke up at 6 something (having spent the majority of the night in the glider as it is — teething baby) I just stayed up, afraid I’d oversleep if I went back to bed.
We got there in good time. I ushered the lad through the drill (shoes off, lunch in cubby, hang up coat, wash hands, say hello, etc.) and then expected we’d play a bit or something before I left. But the Boo ran off, there’s so much to do he hardly knew where to start! Paid me no attention whatsoever. I went and sat by the baby, unsure as to whether or not I should go.
When a friend (whose daughter is in the same class) suggested coffee, I told the Boo it was time for me to leave. I practically had to wrangle a hug and a kiss out of him, told him I’d pick him up after lunch, and I left. He was FINE!
Well, I thought he would be, but still. It’s odd to have a child who was once attached to you like velcro, to just wave bye and run off.
So there you go. I’m officially the mommy of a preschooler. On the bright side — I’m looking forward to the lunches and shopping to be done with just one child. Ah, perspective is such a good thing.