It Was True at Some Point, At Least

E just started Pre-K at a public elementary school. He goes Monday through Friday from 12:30 to 3:30 in the afternoon. There are 20 children in his class, with a teacher, a teacher's assistant, and a student teacher.

I was a bit leery of putting him in Pre-K. Our experience with a private preschool last fall didn't go over well. The teacher didn't impress me, E was having a hard time adjusting to certain of his classmates, and it got to where he was screaming every time we dropped him off. Because he'd been in a preschool before (which he had loved), I wrote the entire experience off as just a bad apple, and withdrew him from the program after about 4 months.

However, that meant that my parents had to bear the brunt of childwatching during the school year. And while they love him, and they love taking care of him, he's an extremely active/curious/ high-maintenance 4-year-old, and they're in their 50s. They're not spring chickens (sorry, 'rents, if you read this...I love you!). I felt like it was wearing them out to watch him for what sometimes amounted to 9 hours a day. I mean, let's not kid ourselves, it wears me out to watch him all day.

Plus, seeing as how E is an only child (and likely to stay that way for a long, long time), and my parents' neighborhood is composed mostly of retired and mid-life couples with grown children, he didn't have that many playmates. And the poor thing loves other kids. So I made the decision (with parental encouragement) to enroll him in Pre-K.

And so far, it's been a delight. He comes home jabbering about his friends and his teachers every day, he loves being the "helper", and talks about the little "jobs" they give the kids to do around the classroom. Seeing as how school's in the afternoon, he gets to spend the mornings with Nanay & Poppa, and then they can rest while he's being worn out playing at school. He's been sleeping better at night, he has something concrete to look forward to every afternoon, he gets to be around other kids, and the g'rents get a well-earned rest.

Anyway, today was the first Pre-K parents' meeting. I attended, like the active parent I am (going to be). It lasted for maybe 10 minutes, and its real purpose was just so that his teacher, Mrs. S., could meet those parents that she hadn't yet, and we could pick up a big set of papers about the program and our kids.

So at the end, after I'd collected all my shnizzle, I went to go speak with Mrs. S. I had met her briefly at the open house before school started, and had seen her when picking E up from school, but had never officially met her. Upon introducing myself as E's mother, she told me that he's apparently a joy to have in class, and that he's a well-behaved, sweet child.

I'm so glad someone thinks that on a daily basis.

Kidding, kidding...

Are You My Mother?

Because I'm a young, single mom, I've always been wary of misinterpretation as far as who E's mother is. Not from E himself, but from other people.

It doesn't help that his last name is different than mine. You'd think in this day and age, with all the freaking divorces, professional women keeping their last names, etc., people would be used to parents having different last names from their kids. But no. Every time I pull out my ID or sign for E, I get weird looks. Sigh.

And I look like I'm about 18. And my mom looks like she's less than 40. So I tend to hear that my "little brother" is adorable. Or people will exclaim that my mom doesn't look old enough to have a teenager AND a 4 year old. It gets old fast.

Worst is when my son calls my dad "Daddy", which he does a lot. It catches Poppa's attention a lot faster than "Poppa" does. I mean, come on, he's been answering to "Daddy" for over 20 years, and "Poppa" has only been around for the last couple. However, that habit gets awkward, because while Dad doesn't look old, per se, he looks quite a bit older than I do. So when E goes around calling me "Mama" and Poppa "Daddy", my poor father gets the "you're a creepy old man" looks. It's kind of funny, admittedly.

Anyway, my parents, E and I were eating dinner out some time ago, when a work acquaintance of my dad's walks by. They strike up a conversation, and she eventually starts cooing over E...I mean, she couldn't help it, he's adorable. So Dad's like, "he looks like me, doesn't he?" in that proud Poppa way that all parents/grandparents/relatives of cute kids have. The poor lady goes "No, he looks like his mom!" while gesturing toward my mother. The rest of us just kind of smiled, willing to let it pass.

But not E. He indignantly stated: "That's not my mom! That's my nanay! This is my mom!!"

And that's my boy.

Out of the Mouths of Those We Wish to Keep Quiet

A friend and I were in the car recently, discussing the deer that could be found around a certain fish hatchery near my apartment. E piped up in the backseat:

"I used to have a pet fish."
Friend: "Oh? What happened to it?"
E: "My mom fed it too much and it died."

I'm So Emo Even My Kid's Emo

Portrait of Mommy
by E


You wonder what that weird horn in the middle of my forehead is? So did I.

When I asked, E said: "Oh, that's your hair in your face."

Finding Nemo

Over the summer, E developed a love for the water. He'd never really been scared of it before, per se, but he wasn't all too eager to jump in it every chance he got. I think the whole "I might be cold when I get out" thing wasn't quite up his alley. And he doesn't like bulky clothing, so those little wetsuits with attached life jackets (or just a life jacket with regular trunks) weren't his thing either. Last summer, we lived 30 minutes away from a fantastic water park, with a really great kids' section. We went maybe once because he didn't like the fountains that sprayed water in his face. And our apartment complex had a (relatively) nice pool that we never actually used because he never wanted to go swimming. Even at hotels, he was happier sitting on the edge of the hot tub and dangling his feet in than splashing in the pool.

But this summer, he has been like a freaking little fish. I think the graduation to water wings played a big part. We went to the water park 3 times, to the city pool once, swam at various hotel pools while on vacation, and now that we're back in one place, we've been going to the complex pool at least once, and usually twice a day. With the help of the aforementioned devices, he can tread water, swim across the pool, jump in and put his face in the water. It's fantastic, this new love of the water.

And it's been great in bargaining. "If you whine one more time we won't go swimming today," works like a charm.

I'm Baaaaack

After a long, waaaaay more extended leave of absence than really required, I am finally (relatively) permanently reconnected to the World Wide Web. I'm thrilled, my email account is thrilled, and you should also be thrilled.

I promise, more excellent, opinionated posts are on their way. They've been fomenting in my brain all this time. You're lucky.

But right now, I have to go deal with a little boy who missed his mommy on her first day back to school...and therefore needs all her attention at the moment.

Later, tater