1. Preparing snacks blows.
I know we’re only 2 weeks in which amounts to a grand total of 6 preschool days, but this means I’ve had to prep and package 6 different snacks for Mason thus far. And you know what? I’m not a goddamn machine, people.
I’m already dreading the year to come, and am trying hard to ignore the fact that, come January and my return to work, I will also be responsible for a healthy and nutritious lunch. Yipee!
On paper the requirements the school sets out for snack are simple to follow: only a fruit or a vegetable, nothing else. Should be easy, right? Except I have the world’s pickiest eater, which eliminates the category of vegetables entirely. And also about 98% of the world’s known fruits.
I am effectively sending grapes, bananas, and a hope and a prayer.
Oh, and please make sure those grapes are sliced at a minimum in half (the school’s expectation). And that the banana doesn’t have a speck of brown on it (my son’s expectation). And that it’s all packaged in an easy-to-open-and-close, maintains-its-coolness-well, small-but-not-too-small leak-proof container. That flys, and shoots rainbows out of its lid.
Or the exact opposite of that.
2. Shit will get lost.
We were advised well in advance to label everything.
At the parent-only meeting we attended at the end of August, they made a big deal about how they can’t be held responsible for sending one little girl home with 3 pairs of pink pants and another with only 1 if they weren’t properly labelled. And I get it. I’m a teacher as well, and I know how easily things get lost and mixed up (my husband, on the other hand, kept whispering things like “I’d like to know why they’re removing kids’ pants in the first place”. Helpful).
I dutifully ordered the motherload of labels to cover every and anything Mace could possibly touch, and waited for them to come in the mail. Except I never took into account the fact that its label-makers’ busiest time of year, and I should’ve ordered that shit weeks earlier. So Mason attended his first day with nary a nametag in sight.
Well, what are the odds of something getting lost the first day? I rationalized. They’re hardly doing anything. It’ll be fine.
And then Mace came home without his snack container. Or hat. Or socks.
So yeah … labels. Important.
3. Avery’s favourite time to unleash her bowels is during the 5 minute drive to school.
I’m not even kidding. I’ve dropped Mason off 6 times so far, which also happens to be the exact number of times Ave has filled her pants on the way over. Seriously. And three additional times she’s even dropped a load at pick-up time, too. Awesome.
Now I not only look like the crappy parent with the unlabelled son, but I’m clearly leaving my daughter to sit in her filth for hours on end. Wicked. But on the upshot, if Ave's ever constipated I'll just send her to school.
4. I’m heartless about “art work”.
Mace has been in school only 2 weeks, and has already returned home with enough scribbled paper to cover a small house. Initially I thought about using the Pinterest idea of photographing each piece and eventually turning it into a book. So sweet, right? What a unique way to file these precious memories!
Except to be honest, most of the “memories” are “crap”.
Actually, all of them are thus far, save for the one he did on his first day of school.
|Mace's one redeeming piece of "art"|
It doesn’t help that Mace is in his Blue Period right now, meaning that every.single.piece.of.art is done on blue paper with a blue crayon or marker, and is just scribbles (because my son clearly gets his father’s artistic talent).
And thus are indecipherable from one to another.
So I’ve been filing them, all right.
Under “G” for “G”arbage.
5. Three-year olds suck at telling you about their day.
According to Mason, all he’s done in school is “coloring” and “snack”. To put it in perspective, this is a 3 hour class. You can get a lot of stuff done in 3 hours. Hell, my entire labour and delivery of Avery was 3 hours. I created a life in that span of time.
Yet all my son can recall is “coloring” and “snack”.
Oh, and that one time a kid showed up with corn-on-the-cob (I feel for you, corn-on-the-cob-sending mama. Let’s just hope that container was labelled.).
Or the time he talked to “that green boy”.
And that’s it. The full extent of his first two weeks in school. “Coloring” (and we know how well he’s doing at that) and snack. Perfect. Glad we’re spending our money on this experience.
Now you tell me … what’s one thing you’ve learned at school?