You know all those posts out there about how three-year-olds are a**holes? And all those memes that echo the same sentiment? And you know how they are all funny because they are rooted in deep, dark truth?
Well, let’s see if we can find some humor here, because, holy mother of Threenagers, something ate my kid and I’d really like him back. Now.
Case in point? The kid who doesn’t want to wear long sleeves or long pants, much less a coat, has no morphed into the kid who doesn’t want to go to preschool. Ever. Silver lining side note: I should probably pause for a second to give thanks for the fact that I am getting him to wear long sleeves and long pants, that is, 3/7 days of the week (the two he has preschool and the one we have church), so technically this is a win, and I think that any and all wins should be celebrated with 3yos, so yay me for successfully wrestling my kid into actual clothes a little less than half of the days a week in Nebraska in November. My awesomeness can’t be stopped.
But, as it goes, the second you get over one hurdle, another one appears and it often seems not only taller but also louder than the last. Mixed metaphor you say? I invite you to my house any morning between the hours of 7-8:30 a.m. on Lincoln’s preschool days because his displeasure at the prospect of going to school (and not just dropping RL off, which is what he does – in pajamas – the other three days of the week) is NOT quiet. Nor does it ever seem to end, so I think mixing metaphors is only expected at this point, don’t you?
This concern of his started with swimming lesson days which happen just twice a month, but when you only go to preschool two days a week, I guess that actually seems like a lot of swimming days, but then suddenly, this week, his “I don’t WANT TO GO TO SCHOOLs” have seeped over into the nonswimming days too. And this from the kid who spent ALL OF LAST YEAR wishing to go to school like his Bigs, every blessed day. AYFKM? How is this even happening?
Body Snatchers are the only possible answer I can find. Do you have anything else to propose?
Because ultimately, once I get him to preschool and he goes in his classroom (which thankfully is without tears or tantrum), he is fine. His teacher and I talked about the situation this morning and sure enough, when I came to get him at the end of the morning, she reported that he was totally good the whole time. And when I asked him if he had fun, he said yes! And when I asked him if he was excited to back to school next Tuesday, he said NO!
And so we here we are: at the place where I am so glad that the next four mornings I get to tell him, “Nope – no school for you today!” when he inevitably asks first thing in the morning but will most likely still be faced with the stressful why-are-on-earth-are-we-paying-for-preschool-for-this-kid-if-it-is-just-torturing-all-of-us dilemma next Tuesday.
The growing number of gray hairs on my head is not shocking. Their source, not hard to identify. But are they funny? Well, maybe someday.