Tomorrow: Preschool

Bode's first art class. He is 18 months.

It happened quickly. It had to. If you give me an inch, I will take a mile.  And with the subject of Bode starting preschool, it could have easily dragged into his 4th or 5th year.  Easily.

A couple of weeks ago, we had toured, and liked a school. The admissions director had met all of us, and the preschool teacher had observed Bode. I had spoken with the preschool teacher a couple of times, asking various questions, and I liked her. I liked her responses and I liked her approach to kids, to Bode. So RWF and I had officially decided on a school.  We received Bode's acceptance letter on Monday (yes! an acceptance letter into a preschool!).  We also received a mountain of paperwork to fill out - emergency card, health record, allergy info, etc., along with the contract.  I started filling it out Tuesday night, begrudgingly.  I stalled on some of the stuff that required me to actually think, or look something up (insurance info, date of last dental check-up, etc.).  Tuesday night, I mentioned to RWF that I had started on the paperwork because I knew he was wondering where I was in the process.  He casually asked if Bode might start school on Thursday (a date we had tossed around with the admissions director).  "I don't know," was my vague, guarded reply.

This afternoon I had an unexpected phone call from the admissions director.  "I was wondering if we were going to see Bode in class tomorrow?" she chirped. Her question actually ended  more in exclamation, or a statement, and was not actually a question. Really, she does not chirp.  She has a very calm, controlled, almost stern, speaking voice - perfect for an admissions director of a school.  She is very nice, but I do have a hard time addressing her by her first name, and not by "Mrs. M-" But this may be my upbringing as well. As a child, I was never allowed to address an adult by his or her first name. As an adult today, I still  have a hard time not referring to a lot of adults, peers, that I meet as, "Mrs. -" or "Mr. -" So her question, or statement, surprised me. 

I was sorry that I answered my phone. 

I was caught off guard with her question. Would Bode be attending school tomorrow?  Would he? I wondered.  And then I had a flash of possessiveness, and wanted to demand, "Did RWF put you up to this?!!"  Because I know all too well how RWF is more than ready for Bode to attend school, so much so that he has even joked that he will send a Town Car to pick Bode up and take him there if I do not do so myself.  And at that moment, I could see RWF taking a break from a meeting and sneaking a call to Mrs. M- and asking her to please, press her a little. just give her a call and remind her of what we discussed about Bode starting Thursday...

I sighed. I looked at Bode lying on the floor, surrounded by his cars.  I thought about how much he needs to hang out with friends his own age, to figure things out on his own, how he needs more than his cars to keep him entertained throughout the day, how he needs more than...me. So I agreed that Bode would in fact attend school tomorrow.  And then my heart folded in on itself and I started to cry.  I watched Bode closely for the rest of the afternoon. I would rush up to him and squeeze him really hard in a big hug.  I suggested that we make cookies.  We spent an hour making some cookie bars and then eating the topping off them before they had even cooled.

I thought about all the things that I wanted to do with him, and how there is no more time. I am out of time. I want to wail, "I have lost my mother and my son!" And really, at that moment, that is what it felt like. First, my mom. It is too late for "Mom, do you want to go shopping? How about if we go to the Cheesecake Factory for lunch?"  And now, Bode. It is too late for "Bode, do you want to go to the park?"  How about if we watch the Cars movie again?"  I am out of time. Two huge hits.

I know. I know that I am being dramatic.  But I do feel like I am losing my happy little guy.  Just think: he has been with me, and me alone, almost every day of his little life, save for 2 days when I was in the hospital for Gianna's birth, and 4 days when I was in the hospital watching my mother slowly die.

Three years of having Bode all to myself.  And now, everything changes.

And things will change.

RWF counseled me some this afternoon, over the phone, while he was in between meetings at work. I balked at everything that he said. He reminded me that Bode goes to ski lessons every weekend that last just as long as preschool (Yes, I know, I thought, but you are with him.).  He reminded me how most of my mom friends in California have already been doing this for a couple of years (Yes, I know, I thought, but I am not like them. I love my son more than anything, and do not want to- or have to-  hand him over to some stranger for safe-keeping and some wild kids for bad influences while I get my nails done or work-out. He is like my right arm. I need him with mememememe.).  He reminded me that this is just two hours, two days a week (Yes, I know, I thought, but I will not be with him.).  

I worry about all the things that Bode can not do by himself. Things that he might have to do on his own in preschool.  He does not know how to undo his jacket, or take off his shoes, without assistance.  I know that the teacher won't let him sit, sweating his body weight out, in a hat, jacket and snow boots for two hours. But I do worry about how long it will be before the teacher notices his need to be freed from outdoor gear. Bode is still potty training. I worry that the teacher is going to quickly resent Bode's need for assistance in the bathroom. Bode doesn't drink from a cup or cut food himself. Bode doesn't do this...Bode doesn't do that...I can think of a million situations where he might need me.  I know he will not be alone.  But I do worry about him being 'stuck' while he waits for the teacher's attention, or worse, gets into a precarious situation simply because I am not there watching out for him.   

And yes, a lot of this (all of this?) is about memememe.  I am missing out the most. And I do understand that this is for Bode. That this is what Bode needs and deserves.  And that is why I agreed that Bode will start preschool tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

xo