Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Atticus! Preschool! Excitement! Exclamation Points!

Today is the day we've been looking forward to for a while now.

Atticus went to preschool this morning.

We went through a rough patch at church where he quite simply did not want to be parted from us to go to his class, but he got over that several months ago.  He will still occasionally display some separation anxiety-fueled behaviors, however, so I was a little concerned about how this morning was going to go.  At first he didn't seem nervous while getting ready, but at one point he looked up at me, face anxious, and asked, "Am I going to make some friends at school like Adelaide did?"  I reassured him that he would, then commenced worrying about how the drop-off would go.

I needn't have feared.  He held tightly to my hand as we walked around his (fabulous) preschool, but when it was time for Caedmon and I to leave, he couldn't even be bothered to turn around and say good-bye, so engrossed was he in the new-found toys.  I had to hug his back.

(Is it just me, or do I sound all formal right now?  I've been writing some serious emails today, and I feel like I'm having trouble getting out of Professional-Time-To-Sound-Intelligent Mode.  I mean, "needn't"?  Seriously?)

Caedmon had a rougher time than his big preschool-going brother.  When we went to the school's open house a couple weeks ago, he kept asking questions like, "Where's my seat?  Where's my bag?  Which hook is mine?" and at home, he's been engaging in every preschool-related conversation like he was planning on attending right alongside Atticus.  We've been pretty careful to tell him that he'll get to go in two years, when he's four, but what's a year to a two-year-old?  It's both tomorrow and it's forever, that's what.

He accepted my hand when it was time to leave the brightly colored, toy- and book-filled, chicken-occupying (yup, there's a chicken coop right next to the playground where they get to hold the chickens and help collect eggs, oh yeah, and friendly sheep right on the other side of the fence), enthusiastic teacher-led, way-more-fun-than-you'll-ever-have-at-home preschool.  Hence, I have no idea why his little face was so downcast and his voice started to hitch when he said, "But I don't wanna play with the toys at home."  So I did what any super-mom would do:

I bribed him with a chocolate muffin at the coffee shop.  Go, me.

Requisite First Day photo:

Right before this Cade said, "You forgot to give me my bag, Mommy!"  Oy.

And then there's this one that his teacher took, which shows Atticus in one of his personal versions of heaven: Surrounded by pretty girls.  No wonder he's excited to go back.

He was so excited to show me what he'd made when I picked him up, and to tell me what he had for a snack, and what he got to play with, and to tell me that "I get to come back tomorrow!"

Sounds like a pretty successful first day to me.


  1. Makes me want to cry. First because a atticus started school and second because caedmon felt left out.

  2. A chicken coop at preschool? That's unexpected. It sounds like the first day went quite well. A chocolate muffin is an excellent bribe.

  3. Sounds like a great preschool --I'm feeling sorry for Cade.

    Emma's first day at preschool was tragic. She'd been in a great home daycare since she was 10 months old, but you'd have thought we were leaving her with the scariest people in the world when she started preschool. I have never felt so awful in all my life. Of course she was fine in a half hour and enjoyed it while she was there, but she wasn't easy to leave at school until . . . aw, who am I fooling? She still requires a kiss before she gets out of the car and we have an "I love you" set of hand signals for after the car door is closed. That's my teenager :-)

  4. Wow, I love how happy he looks! Perfection.

  5. Frankly, I'm not captured by A's first day of school. Rather, I'm focusing on your "time-to-sound-intelligent" jargon. I'm so glad someone else does that and then laughs at the assumed language. :) I'm especially bad at adopting the language of books I am reading. When Alan arrived home from work today, I had been reading A Tale of Two Cities. I realized I was speaking quite formally after he looked at me strangely. . .


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