The first day of preschool

Have you seen those pictures on Pinterest where the parents take their child's picture on the first day of every school year holding some sort of sign detailing what year it is and how old they are and they look so put together and, generally, full of time? Yep, I had those ambitions. I at least wanted a cute picture of my son's first day of school. Sadly, life gave me a big ol' smack to the face and said, "You either get a cute picture of your kid or you get to change out of your pajamas before drop-off. DON'T GET GREEDY and expect both." So I opted to change clothes because I don't want to (immediately) be labeled as that mom.

So instead of the cutesy photos of my child in front of his new school, holding a perfectly handwritten chalkboard with the date, his age, his favorite color, football team, allergy, and a teacher gift, there is this.

Just stand there (next to the trash can) and smile! Can you stop eating your breakfast for a second?

No, don't you squat down here with Mama, just stand up straight and smile at the camera! Cheeeeeeeese!  Gah this lighting SUCKS. Steve, can you flip on a lamp? Molly, we will GET TO YOU IN A MINUTE. 

We should have done this outside. The lighting in this kitchen is HORRID. But if I let him walk outside he's going to think that we're going out to play. And then he'll flip his lid when I put him in the car. How long do you think it will take me to get downtown at this time of day anyway? We're gonna be late aren't we. Where is that Epi-pen? Finish chewing, I just need one decent shot to soothe my guilt over not having a special chalkboard.

Sam! Look over here! Smile for just one second! We are so going to be late. And all of these pictures look like $#*+. 

We actually made it to preschool early, but clearly not as early as everyone else, as he was the last one to class (we were ten minutes early!). I then had to explain his allergies and the Epi-pen and how I didn't get the packet of papers to fill out at the open house and oh hi! there's the director! I'll come to your office and write you a check. Let's spend some time talking about Sam's allergies and Molly's cheeks and I have to wash his hands before he can go in the classroom? But I have a child strapped to my front. GAH. Ok. I'll see what I can do. Why do you think I'm trying to lure you into a bathroom, child? Just come in here so I can wet your hands and splash some soap on you. Who on God's green earth did they make these sinks for? Third graders apparently. Too tall for toddlers, WAY too short for adults. This bathroom is ridiculous. I think they're out of paper towels. Don't get Molly wet. Ok, just use my shirt. Let's go find your teacher. Sam! Can I take your picture?

Well I love you too. See you in three hours! (Except by the time I left, it was closer to two hours. Grumble grumble.)

While I often thought I'd be that mom who cried upon leaving my child with a veritable stranger or have a breakdown in the parking lot, I nearly skipped out of there. He has ZERO separation anxiety! He's going to have FUN! By the time I get home, I'm going to have to come right BACK! I bet my meter has expired since preschool drop-off took approximately 90 minutes! Come on Molly!

When I went to pick him up, the teachers commented on how great he did and how well-behaved he was. He appeared happy and held my hand while we walked through the church. Until we got outside and he lost his ever-lovin' mind. Whyyyyyyyy must I hold your haaaaaaaaaand????? (Loses his $#*+ on the sidewalk. I pick him up like a sack of potatoes and haul him to the car. At first I felt embarrassed, what with my child having such an ugly meltdown in the middle of the parking lot. Then I remembered that I was surrounded by parents of preschoolers and I knew that I was not being judged. Pitied maybe, but definitely not judged.) Sam proceeded to be a complete joy for the rest of the day. (SARCASM) My mama told me that he was probably acting out because "his whole world is being turned upside down with this sudden schedule change." I think that 1) I know why kids love their grandmothers so much and 2) that might be giving him a little too much credit. Sam is not known for his situational awareness. (Please refer to the multiple times a day where he runs into the same wall.)

The next day of preschool went smoothly, and Molly and I actually had time to go run errands! And browse Target! And sit in the car in PEACE! What a dream. Sam still flipped out when he had to hold my hand in the parking lot (does he suddenly find my yoga capris that repulsive?) but "recovered" fairly quickly (meaning: he did not scream the entire way home again). He was pleasant to be around the rest of the day and I'm hoping that his "transition period" is over.

So, um, yeah. It's official. I love preschool.