Preschool Registration and Toddler Terrorists

A Universal Hand hit time’s fast forward button this morning—I signed my four-year-old daughter, Lil’ K., up for preschool. Stop laughing at me for getting all sentimental and shit. I know it’s just preschool. It’s not like it’s (gasp) kindergarten or anything.

While I collected all the paperwork I had brought, my eighteen-month-old son, Lil’ P., set about tearing the school’s front office apart. Lil’ K. chased him around a little. He emptied the book bins and scattered them around. Lil’ K. picked up some books and attempted to pretend-read to him. In the meantime, I handed over her birth certificate, her social security card, her immunization record, a light bill, and a copy of the deed to our house.

Apparently, people are in the habit of sneaking little terrorists into preschool. Just then, I caught Lil’ P. in an attempt to scale the front windows. As I pulled him off by the back of his pants, I wondered what kind of paperwork they’d need from me when I signed him up for preschool to prove he didn’t have ulterior motives. Window scaling could be a sign of something nefarious.

The school bookkeeper, who has known me all my life, handed me a stack of registration papers almost as big as the ones they give you at a home loan closure. She sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

“Standard procedure,” she said, also handing back all the proof that Lil’ K. is from nowhere other than Planet Worrell.

By then, Lil’ P. was attempting to hang from the door handle. Lil’ K., being the big preschooler that she is, stalked over to him.

She plastered herself across the door breathlessly. “I’ve got this fully under contwol,” she informed us.

Unfortunately, she had to backtrack when Lil’ P. climbed on her head to get to the doorhandle.

“A little help here, pwease,” came her muffled plea from the vicinity of her agile brother’s scrotum.

We finally got Lil’ P. interested in some truck books while I filled in the remainder of the papers. When I finally handed in the paperwork, I told Lil’ K. that she was officially enrolled in preschool. Her teacher came in just then, talked with a pleased Lil’ K., and answered the few questions I had.

Another of Lil’ K.’s teachers actually taught Big A. about fourteen years ago, and I’ve worked with the people at this school for years. These folks were the same ones that helped me through the two miscarriages we endured before having Lil’ K. Some of these teachers ran to my classroom door to watch my students when I streaked down the hall to puke at the advent of Lil’ K.’s miraculous residency. Now, I’m handing her over to these loving and gifted educators; she’s going to have an amazing start to her schooling. I couldn’t be happier.

I was so delighted that after I left the school, I called Mr. Jenn.

“I just enrolled Lil’ K. in preschool,” I told him in this fake happy voice with tears running down my face. I positioned myself so Lil’ K. couldn’t see me in the mirror. I told him all about her teachers and what a great start she was getting. He didn’t say much.

“It’s not possible that she’s old enough for this,” he said quietly.

“You have to take off on the first day of school,” I said suddenly. “My first day and hers coincide.”

“Okay,” he said.

“You can fake-peppy the whole thing better than I can,” I said.

“You overestimate me,” he said, right before we hung up.

I got myself back together, and I started talking to the kids about how great school was going to be.

“Mama,” asked Lil’ K. “will I miss you?”

“Not at all, Baby,” I said. “You’ll have so much fun, you won’t miss me a bit.”

And so they grow.

 

parenting BY dummies

29 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. dianasschwenk
    Jul 25, 2012 @ 22:31:22

    ahhh the different stages in their little lives…..You’re a good mom :)

    Reply

  2. Cynthia Meents
    Jul 25, 2012 @ 23:10:42

    Aww, Mom. It’ll be okay. I remember my daughter’s first day of kindergarten. I walked her to school, pushing her little brother in his stroller. I smiled and got her into her classroom, then walked back home, crying all the way. Sounds like you’re doing a good job.

    Reply

  3. El Guapo
    Jul 25, 2012 @ 23:15:48

    Wonderful that you and Mr Jenn are of like minds. And at least you’ll have Lil P to console (and distract) you…

    Reply

  4. meizac
    Jul 25, 2012 @ 23:28:18

    I’ll break it to you now (and as Mr. Jenn has already demonstrated)…it doesn’t get easier when the second one goes. I think I was sappier when she went to junior kindergarten, even though she’d been in a full-time childcare program before that.

    And you rock.

    Reply

  5. Jo-Anne Meadows
    Jul 25, 2012 @ 23:40:14

    The first day is scary for both child and mum, Little Leo cried so much on his first day at day care thankfully his day care is also a pre school so he when he moved into the pre school room he already knew everyone. I would like to tell you he no longer crys when we drop him off but hell this morning he had to be pried off me again and was crying when I left but the tears only last about 5 minuts and then he is fine.
    http://jo-annemotherandnanna.blogspot.com.au/

    Reply

  6. Camille
    Jul 26, 2012 @ 03:42:33

    Aww, don’t worry, I get just as emotional signing my 3 year old up for nursery school!

    Reply

  7. jamie
    Jul 26, 2012 @ 09:05:24

    You have such lovely children!

    Reply

  8. mylifeisthebestlife
    Jul 26, 2012 @ 12:30:50

    OOOOOOOOOOO!!! This made me cry at my desk! My toddler-owning, new-baby-incubating mental state is too fragile for this. They are NOT allowed to grow up this quickly!

    Reply

  9. hughcurtler
    Jul 26, 2012 @ 17:21:49

    And so they grow…and it’s hard to let go. It never gets any easier — at least it didn’t for us. Thanks for the great blog!

    Reply

  10. English Rose-C
    Jul 26, 2012 @ 21:12:51

    You are blessed, thanks for sharing.

    Reply

  11. craftcrazygran
    Jul 26, 2012 @ 21:53:41

    Oh my gosh, it is such a huge event in a mother’s life. They either love it to bits, making you feel like a total ignoramus and most boring mom in the world! Or they hate it, and you feel like the worst kind of Tiger Mom, who refuses to acknowledge littlies have any rights to a carefree childhood. But actually, it’s most often both, and very often the “please don’t make me stay” performance is precisely that. A performance. But you know that.
    All the best in this new adventure x

    Reply

  12. Sandra
    Jul 28, 2012 @ 06:18:00

    Awwww…they do grow, and you know what? They still miss you when they’re 16 except they show it by asking for money and specifying what they’d like for dinner upon their return from school. It’s really quite charming. I have to say, I smiled when I read, ““You can fake-peppy the whole thing better than I can.” ….again, awwww….

    Reply

  13. Annabelle
    Jul 30, 2012 @ 12:03:14

    Aw. I’m sure you’ll both do great.

    Reply

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