School is in Session — Rollin' With The Rolands

We took the plunge and signed Audrey up for preschool. It’s something we’ve been debating about for a while. We weren’t sure if it was necessary considering she is only 2 years old and was enrolled in other activities for socialization, but we decided to give it a try. She was bored at home, needs some peer play time, and would benefit from learning listening to someone other than us. I found it harder to commit to a preschool than I did committing to an undergrad university. There is something about handing your child to a complete stranger for hours at a time that is surprisingly terrifying. After getting recommendations from a few friends, touring the school, and asking (interrogating) a million questions; we said we would think about it. The moon and stars aligned perfectly and a random spot opened up for the days we were interested in so we signed her up and sent her on her way.

I keep her age in mind with my expectations for this experience. I don’t expect her to write her name, know her alphabet, or even tie her shoes at this age. I am hoping for more vocabulary, a little structure in her day, and socialization. I wouldn’t be surprised if she is the first child that gets suspended for the preschool for some ridiculous action like body slamming, stealing lunches, or calling the teacher a “sucka’”. (Which I should note is an automatic time-out in our household, but she still says, “bye sucka’” to people. I have high aspirations for her in the future but am bluntly realistic when dealing with her current toddler personality.

Day one went surprisingly well for her; not so much for me. She ran in without even saying goodbye and I didn’t get to recite my little speech I had prepared for her. Which of course, led me to ugly crying in the car parked directly outside the school. I may have sat in the car for an unknown amount of time, rolling down my window, shouting out and questioning each parent who dropped their kid off if they heard any crying inside. All of them cheerfully answered “nope, quiet”, except one who actually questioned, “uh, who are you?” I came home and called my Mom and tried to make up reasons why I should probably go back and pick her up. Because she ran in so quickly, and I didn’t get to talk to the teacher or explain my list of ‘what if’ solutions I felt obliged to text the owner to see how she was doing. I sat in my kitchen for the entire time staring at the clock for the middle of her time slot and called at exactly 11:00 to check in, as if the texts weren’t enough reassurance. To top it all off, I pulled up to the school 25 minutes early, just in case they needed me for something (they didn’t). All in all, she had a blast and asked to go back as soon as we got home. I promised myself I will get better and tone the crazy down just a bit.

By day 20 I’ll be doing a slow crawl and she will be drop and rolling out of the car as I peel off to enjoy the free time, but day one was a challenge.