Wednesday, September 03, 2003
So the first day of preschool was like this: I woke up before six, threw up prodigiously, and began worrying straightaway. Benny got up, ate some waffles, got dressed, and got introduced to his horse backpack. He named it, "Word." I packed up Word with an extra outfit and an extra pull-up, just in case, as well as some carrot sticks and goldfish crackers for snack time. They don't want us to pack drinks. We got to preschool. Benny marched right in, shook hands with Mr. Steve, and went right through the door to the classrooms without even LOOKING BACK. I choked back my utter panic and went to the library two doors down to read some 19th century fiction with my cell phone open and ready beside me.
At the appointed time I went to pick him up. They let a few moms at a time into the office and then they bring the kids out one by one to the office to meet up with their mothers, so there's never any milling around beside the outside door. Benny came out tearstained and puffy. I felt quite ready to pick up a hatchet and start making people pay, but Mr. Steve said, "Benny got upset when it was time to put away the stuff and get ready to go home." This I can well believe. So I have spared their lives for now, even though the sight of that little child coming out all sniffing and dejected was very powerful and moved me to insane violence. The art teacher handed me his little projects and we went out the door.
In the truck, Benny downed an entire milk cup in one go, and then drank a lot of my water too. Then he leaned back in his seat and said, "Do you want some ice cream?" Well, OF COURSE! So we went off to get ice cream. By the time we got on the freeway and were headed home he had requested his baroque concerti CD and was singing along to Vivaldi with his usual vigor and gusto. So, everyone survived. However, if he comes out teary again next week, I might have to punch someone in the head.
At the appointed time I went to pick him up. They let a few moms at a time into the office and then they bring the kids out one by one to the office to meet up with their mothers, so there's never any milling around beside the outside door. Benny came out tearstained and puffy. I felt quite ready to pick up a hatchet and start making people pay, but Mr. Steve said, "Benny got upset when it was time to put away the stuff and get ready to go home." This I can well believe. So I have spared their lives for now, even though the sight of that little child coming out all sniffing and dejected was very powerful and moved me to insane violence. The art teacher handed me his little projects and we went out the door.
In the truck, Benny downed an entire milk cup in one go, and then drank a lot of my water too. Then he leaned back in his seat and said, "Do you want some ice cream?" Well, OF COURSE! So we went off to get ice cream. By the time we got on the freeway and were headed home he had requested his baroque concerti CD and was singing along to Vivaldi with his usual vigor and gusto. So, everyone survived. However, if he comes out teary again next week, I might have to punch someone in the head.
Here is some of Benny's work that he's been doing at home:
Some practice writing his numbers:
And here is Benny's work from his first day of preschool:
Some practice writing his numbers:
And here is Benny's work from his first day of preschool:
Tuesday, September 02, 2003
First day of preschool! Help! Mommy's having a nervous breakdown!
Benny had a lovely breakfast of waffles and named his backpack, "Word."
On the road with "Word" the horse backpack, on his way to preschool at Virginia Beach School for the Arts.
Benny had a lovely breakfast of waffles and named his backpack, "Word."
On the road with "Word" the horse backpack, on his way to preschool at Virginia Beach School for the Arts.
