as mentioned here, our first bird, started preschool last month. I haven’t really said much about it, aside from vainly focusing on my personal preschool look book and fashion policing the other parents.
here’s the scoop… I’m just not that into preschool. let me break this relationship down..
maybe they just don’t want to play games excuse: I’d like to preface this portion by saying I had to fill out some mundane paperwork which included the question, ‘how does your child handle frustration?’, to which I responded very well, maybe even extremely well. fast forward to time to leave and time for a nuclear meltdown. the teacher told her she couldn’t play games now and kindly suggested she help pick up the toys the other kids littered about. I graciously decline and proceed to chase her around the school for 15 minutes, having to carry her out literally kicking and screaming. day one, I die.
maybe they want to take it slow excuse: homework is due and we don’t have it, homework is done and its not due. finding out about the events calendar week five was helpful.
maybe they are intimidated by me excuse: seeing one of the moms at the mall right after drop off and not a hello or even a smile. or when our caravan is coming through the doors and no one helps. I realize we aren’t a bravo tv series but come on. aren’t we all in this together?
but my hand that rocks the cradle moment was when izzi said a kid told her a secret that she was a poo-poo head. I was devastated. I’m not accusing anyone’s child but even the notion brought me to tears. if I didn’t suffer from adult add, I would home school my kids. I have full respect for teachers, they have the one of the most important and difficult jobs on earth.
I was hesitant to write about this. I’m not even sure exactly what I expected, but this ain’t a love song (and cue bon jovi). once again, I ask, is it just me? please send any advice, stories or words of encouragement!