Oliver Starts Preschool

I remember reading a Family Circus comic in early September one year, probably when I was still in school myself, where the kids were peering solemnly out the bus's back window and one commented, "I didn't know mom knew how to do a back flip."  Now that I'm back at work and away from home during the day, sending Oliver off to school, even if for just a total of five hours a week, is less about liberation for me and more about giving him the chance to have fun and do something independent of mom and dad for the first time. 

Because of Oliver's fall birthday, we had limited preschool options since the programs for the youngest children require them to be three by September 1.  I respect the need for a cutoff and I wasn't going to try to push him ahead for preschool, but I still felt he was ready for something.  He loved ECFE last year, but that was only one night a week, and he still has five long days worth of finding an outlet for his energy and desire to be around other kids. Luckily, the St. Paul Park and Rec Department not only randomly operates a couple of preschools out of their rec centers, but offers a program for two-and-a-half-year-olds.  The school we picked is highly regarded by other parents we've encountered in the neighborhood and the best part of all, it's affordable at an incredible $100 a month.  That's a third, or even a fourth as much as many other preschools I looked into. 

Chris and I had been talking up preschool in preparation for Oliver's first day.  We got him his first bookbag, a red kid-sized version of the iconic L.L. Bean bookbag, talked to him about the schedule and what he could expect and reminded him that two of his friends would be in the same class.  At breakfast this morning, he seemed content, but I couldn't describe him as being excited.  I headed to work and an hour later the nanny texted me a picture of Oliver standing in front of the rec center building with his giant bookbag on his back. 

I surprised Oliver by picking him up and when I first spotted him as he emerged from his classroom, his lower lip quivered as he scanned the crowd of parents for a familiar face.  When he saw me, he matter-of-factly told me how he was "just a little sad" at the beginning and then told me how he cried.  His teacher overheard our conversation and confirmed that he did become upset when he was dropped off, but that he quickly cheered up and had fun the rest of the morning.  I couldn't get out of him much about his day, but he finally talked about playing with trucks, going to the gym to play with a ball and walking in a line to the gym.  But just like he'll eventually grow into his bookbag, I'm confident he'll grow to love going to preschool.