My Preschooler

The big day has arrived. Here he is: My Preschooler.

It was a big deal, at least for me. I spent all morning in a state of low-grade anxiety, the kind of anxiety that you try to stuff in the back of the drawer so you can pretend it doesn't exist. I didn't want T to pick up on my nerves and become more nervous than he needed to be. So I spent all morning wanting to puke in my hat and trying not to act like it.

When the time came, however, my fears went largely unrealized. There were no tears, no long explainations of how I would be back to get him, no clinging or begging. I showed him the bathroom, pointed out that it was a potty with a LEVER and not an auto-flush, put his backpack in his cubby with him and pretty much left. He was immediately drawn to the BIG, NEW TOYS and could scarcely be bothered to say good bye. I have a sneaking suspicion that a half hour later he REALIZED that I said good bye and became upset, but I'm hoping that by then he'll have had some fun and realize that there was still more fun to be had.

For myself, I went to Target and then took A to Gymboree where I spent way too much money on a little sweater and some socks. I'm sure than very soon I'll come to enjoy this time as much as he will, but for now it feels very strange indeed to be without my big boy.