How A Piece of String Made Me Cry

Molly's preschool had a Mother's Day party today.  It was darling.  We were swarmed with munchkins (who are not so excited to see us at home, but at school love us ten times more than usual) eager to present us with hand-printed hot pads and sorbet.  Sorbet!  I was pumped, as I had sent this text to my friend two seconds before walking into the school: "Waiting to go into school for mothers day party.  Ohmygosh!  I hope there is a snack!"

So the sorbet was awesome.  Then they sang some songs about being little miracles, and flowers and sunshine being for everyone, big or small, rich or poor.  I started choking up, but managed to squash the tears by focusing on the kid inviting Molly to dance (oh geez, it's the same kid who brought her a shell from Florida over spring break.  Lord, help me).

But then.  Then!  Those wonderfully sadistic teachers presented us with a portfolio of our child's work, complete with the name tag they got the first day of school, blurbs about what they like to do with their Daddies from the Father's Day Valentine's Day party, and... a string.

A string they used to measure Molly way back in October.  She has grown.  And not just taller.  She colors in the lines better now, she memorizes long(ish) songs and poems, she speaks more eloquently, she shares more happily, she holds her crayon properly, she has even more confidence (!), and she's just... older.  A more mature Molly.  Thank you piece of string, thank you very much.  I will tape you up and remember all the ways in which my girl has grown, even as she puts her shoes on the wrong feet or spills her milk or cries when she falls.  She might be little, but I know it's not for long.

My Day At School

I don't normally blog on Thursdays.  But even if I wanted to yesterday, all the Diet Cokes in the world could not have given me the energy to move my fingers about a keyboard.  Why?  Because November 4th was my day to be the parent volunteer in Molly's class.

I overcame my first hurdle with flying colors: Molly didn't even protest me going in with her!  She didn't excitedly drag me in by the hand and begin showing me her cubby, art area, and new friends of course, but I would never have expected that.  It was more like, "You're coming in?  Ok, I'll probably run into you at some point then."  Which was fine with me as I was expecting a full-fledged, "Preschool is just for children!" tantrum.

My first job was to help the kids locate their name tags and pin them on their shirts.  I did it!  Piece of cake!  I'd be a great teacher! 

The kids have ten minutes of free time before they congregate on the big circle.  I was a huge hit!  "Teacher!  Teacher!  [who me?! yes! me!] will you do this puzzle with me?  Will you play cheetahs with me? [??] I made you a pizza, I made you a cake!"  They vied for my attention and I began a speech to Jim in my head, "I think I want to get a degree in education.  I've missed my calling and it's a 3 year old voice saying, 'you shoulda been a preschool teacher!'"

Next is circle time, where M introduced me (unnecessary since I was already BFFs with these kiddos!); we sang songs, read a book, etc.  Kids wanted to sit on my lap and I felt like the Homecoming Queen of the Tuesday/Thursday morning preschool class.

I assisted my mini buddies with animal bingo (everyone wins!) and then it was time for snack (apparently parent volunteers just help serve- we don't actually partake in snack) and more free time.  My eye caught the clock.  Hm.  Earlier than I would have guessed.

The rest of the day is an exhausted blur.  I was starving.  I had the kind of headache that slams your brain against your skull every time you take a step.  The kids were not as cute getting a second wind and I could not keep up anymore.  I planted myself at the art table and repeated, "I like all the colors you used" and "You worked so hard on that" to whomever sat down beside me.

Finally, mercifully, it was recess and then!  "Thank you Molly's mommy!"  We were outta there.  Molly has asphalt burn down the side of her face from me dragging her, manically racing to my car.  When we got home I noticed another mom had snuck a note in her backpack about chipping in for the teachers' Christmas gifts.  Timely.  They will be getting a hefty gift from this non-teacher!

Chuck Norris.  Hah!  He's got NOTHING on the preschool teachers of the world.

I've Been Schooled

I wasn't quiiiiiite ready to discuss on the blogosphere yesterday, but we made it through the first day of school.  Some of us (Molly) with flying colors, and some of us (me) just barely eeked by.  Of course, the parents stayed with the kiddos yesterday, so the real test is on Tuesday.  Molly will be delighted to be rid of me.  Yesterday, as she worked with her new friends at the craft table, she leaned over to whisper to me.  I leaned in, anticipating her to kiss my cheek or (better!) whisper adorable little concerns that I would happily put to rest in my most motherly voice.  Instead, she said, "Mommy.  You can go now!  This is just for children!"  Sigh.  So it begins.  Here's my little Preschooler on her first day:

Still recovering from the emotional roller coaster that is the first day of school, but Ad Bits relevant posts will be back in effect soon.  Promise!