What’s written on tomorrow’s date on the calendar has been staring at me for over a month, and I just can’t wrap my brain around it.
I thought this wouldn’t be a big deal to me, but I find myself ignoring it as a way of denial.
Tomorrow night Cort has a Preschool Information Meeting for getting Eddie signed up for preschool.
I really thought I would be ready for this. I thought I would be excited for Eddie. I mean, I am excited for Eddie. Academically he is totally ready to be in school. I can teach him just so much before he needs someone who is dedicated to knowing what and how to teach 4 year-olds (which Eddie will be this summer). Between his daycare mom and myself, Home Slice can count forward to 20 and backward from 10. He knows all his letters. He can recognize his name when it’s written on something. He can color in the lines (when he wants to, which is not often) and he can hold a pencil/crayon correctly (when he feels like it, which is not often).
We do lots of literacy stuff: he can predict, make connections, infer, and even tell stories based just on pictures. He even recognizes some words.
He plays nice with others and knows how to share.
But he is ready for organized learning. Something Cort and I can’t provide since we both work full-time out of the home, and something his daycare mom can give him just so much of with babies to take care of too.
And so, this fall, my oldest baby will go to preschool.
I didn’t think it would, I don’t know, hurt so much that he will be going away. I mean, it’s not like he’s with me during that time of the day anyway. He’s always at Renae’s house and I am at work.
But somehow, knowing my little boy will be going to school three afternoons a week is…like a punch to the gut.
Like I said on Monday, I know he is ready, but it’s just so hard for me to let go.
This is another one of those steps that is ready and so excited to take. And I am too, except…it’s terrifying to relinquish another bit of control. Another bit of being the only one in his life.
That sounds creepy and weird, but I mean it in the least creepy and weird way possible.
I mean it in the way of a mom who is doing her best to raise independent kids, but who enjoys having them depend on her.
So I have a bit of denial about the fact that my first baby will be old enough for school in the fall. Even if that school is “just” preschool. Even if there won’t be a missing boy from my daily life. Even though I know he will have an amazing amount of fun and excitement…as will I when he tells me all the things he learns and does.
I’m just not good at change.
Which is really why Cort is going to the information meeting. His listening ears are not clogged with anxiety and worry like mine are.
So this week learn about preschool; next week sign him up.
Pardon me while I hug him a few hundred times to try to keep the remaining baby-ness squeezed tightly in there.