Jack will be 3 in April and so that means it is time to look into preschool for him for the fall. Preschool. As in a place where my baby would go several times a week without me and learn things and play and make friends. Did I mention he would go without me?
It is kind of a shock to my delicate mother's system that we have to start thinking about this now. I am not quite ready to send him off to school and into the big, cruel world.
The other night at dinner, my husband asked Jack, "Would you like to go to school next year?" And Jack's eyes lit up and he said, "Oh, yes! I will be big!"
And my eyes welled up with tears. No! Wait! Stay home with me!
(And maybe I am a being tad dramatic about the whole thing.)
This morning Jack, Sarah and I went to a preschool to take a tour. As we pulled into the parking lot, Jack said, "This is my school!" When we went in the classroom, Jack went right over and played with the toys and then sat down at a table and painted. A sweet little girl handed him a paint ice cube and he helped himself to a piece of paper.
Jack did not want to leave.
Walking to the car, I consoled him, telling him that he could come to school when he is 3 and big.
He cried, "I am BIG. I am 3 NOW!"