No other word has dominated my thoughts more over the last two weeks.
No other word brings about such mixed emotions to me right now.
Such an innocent, two syllable word, yet the flood of excitement and tears it conjures up are second to none. And that’s just for me. You should ask my daughter what she thinks of it. Have a tissue handy.
Yep, we started preschool here at the McP household, and it’s been a rollercoaster ride.
First came the orientation night and the inevitable questions:
“Will they like me?”
“Will I fit in?”
Those were my thoughts as we prepared to meet the other parents. I have to imagine my daughter felt similarly, yet she pulled through just fine. She played nicely by herself as we left for a 30 minute orientation and was genuinely excited about going back to school last Tuesday for her first day.
Day one was a terrific day. My daughter was a little nervous but walked right to her room, grabbed a book, and made the most of it. She seemed happy when I picked her up and at that point I was riding high! “Man”, I thought, “why didn’t we put her in school any sooner or for three days a week instead of two?!?”
Day two started the slide….. my daughter clung to me like velcro when we arrived. I literally had to peel her off of me to get her in the room. When I picked her up she told me that she was very sad and that she cried twice because she didn’t want to be there.
Day three (today) was the worst yet. This morning she cried when she woke up saying, “I don’t want to go to school”. She cried because she “already has a friend (Sylvie)” and doesn’t want any more. I finally got her calmed down and in the car. She wanted to bring her stuffed turtle along, and she told me, as I was driving us, that the turtle was “really, really, really sad because he doesn’t want to go to school”. She began to cry as soon as we entered the building.
When I went to pick her up today, my daughter wasn’t quite ready to come home. She was having a lot of fun on the playground. “Great,” I thought, “we’re making progress!” I encouraged her, “Don’t worry, you get to come back on Thursday!!!”
Immediately she put on the longest face ever.
“But I don’t want to go to school anymore” was her sad reply.
Now she’s laying in her bed for her afternoon rest time just repeating in a sad, sad voice, “I don’t want to go to school anymore…” followed by a whimpering.
I still believe that my daughter needs the socialization she’s getting from school and that ultimately she’ll really like it. But I could sure use a few less tugs on the heart when I think about taking her again. Right now I would love to forget the word “preschool”.
Before "preschool" became synonymous with "misery"