After five years, nine months, and 22 days (more or less) of solid kiddie time, I am going to have a regular chunk of time every single week when I won’t have any children with me. Yep, Quinn is going to preschool. He starts the day after Labor Day and will go two days a week.
I am thrilled.
Quinn is not.
If I tell him that he is going to school, he says, “NOOOOOOOO!” If I introduce him to a child who will be in his class, he says, “NOOOOOOOO!” If I talk about his teacher, he says, “NOOOOOOOO!” Needless to say, I’m a little concerned. He has not heard one sentence that includes both “Quinn” and “school” without the same reaction. (“NOOOOOOOO!”)
Until today. We were headed out to a playdate in his classroom where he could hang out with his teacher and the other kids and their families. As I was strapping him into his carseat, I told him we were going to his school to see his class. He quietly, and nicely, said, “Mine school?”
The classroom was hot. The classroom was humid. The classroom had way too many people in it. The classroom was really pretty unpleasant.
And Quinn loved it. He played with toys, he wandered around. He DIDN’T CARE OR NOTICE when I would walk out of the room to chat with the other parents in the relative pleasantness of the hall. When the teacher took a photo of him and me to hang on her wall, he grinned at her and said, “Cheese!”
When it was time to leave, I prompted him to say goodbye to his teacher, Mrs. Bea. He ran up to her with a giant smile on his face, HUGGED HER, and said, “Bye, bye, Mrs. Bea!”
Things are looking up.