What I Am Going to Miss About Pre-School

*This post was written three weeks ago/ just getting around to posting it

I can’t believe that this Friday, we will be walking through the doors of Emma’s new school together, for the first time for the first* kindergarten orientation. It’s funny though, when I watch Emma and listen to her talk about her current school, I can tell that she is ready for more, ready for a challenge. Is that crazy to say? I know she will miss the school she has been in for the past 2.5 years but I also am pretty sure at least a small part of her wants to embark on the great adventure that is kindergarten. I am going to do my best to be there for her through the transition, but not too there if you know what I mean. I want to be there for her but give her the space she needs to figure out her new surroundings. It’s so hard to say (and we’ll see if I can even manage it) but that’s the goal. In 3 weeks she turns 5 and graduates from Pre-School all at once. Here I am, powerless to do anything but watch everything pass me by and try desperately to hold onto every inch of every moment. Any hope I had of being home with her full time for an extended period of time is long gone now and it still does pain me a little that I no longer have that option with her but it worked out better for both of us in the end.  I can’t constantly beat myself up for not begin there every second of the past five years but what I have been doing lately is really trying to make the most of our time together now, even more so than I had before.

I really am going to miss her preschool. I can’t believe I was ever nervous to leave her at the place. I mean sure it smelled like poop every now and then and it was a smaller place than her corporate run daycare center but man what a place it has turned out to be! It is the preschool I had always dreamed my potential kids would go to. It reminds me a lot of my preschool and for the most part, a lot of the place is frozen in time. The same old, sturdy tables, chairs, and shelves, the same chunky wooden blocks from sometime in the 80s I assume. Hooks and cubbies and bathrooms and tiny water fountains line the hallways along with crusted paint pictures and stray papers with happy faces. It is a place where hamsters get lose to never be found again and guinea pigs hump like rabbits in the night (they currently have two they are trying to get rid of…on display by the front door…no joke). Sounds from the old piano flutter through the air as a line of kids pick their noses and grin from ear to ear at the Christmas Pageant and Spring Show. What a remarkable place, and such a fantastic and magical spot for Emma to form the foundation of her curiosities and knowledge for the rest of her life. There will never be a time I don’t miss that place.

I will try not to get too emotional when she leaves her school but it’s a double whammy for me really, she’s growing up and we won’t have a connection to that pre-school any more. I will never forget volunteering at the Valentine’s Day party when Emma was in the 2 year old room all that time ago up to the time recently when I went with her on their field trip to the farm a few weeks back. Even if we end up having another kid I don’t think I could swing the long commute for three years although it would be tempting as I am sure there is no other place like this pre-school anywhere. All I can do now really, is to be grateful for the time we got to spend knowing this amazing place and hope that the next place is just as amazing.

*There’s at least one more orientation plus an individual evaluation and a few PTA events scheduled over the next few months at Emma’s new school.

Minivan Mom

Of course things happen when you least expect them or when you have not planned ahead for them, that is just the way life is. We did not set out to flip our lives upside down to join the ranks of a group so notorious, so distinct from any other group that they are known for their total lack of rebellion and lack of fun….that’s right I am talking about minivan owners. I will write that out in plain language to let the idea really sink in…we, as in us, as in my family owns a minivan.

As previously stated, we did not seek out this distinguished title, we ended up losing Thomas’ car in an accident (I say lose because that car was like a member of the family – and Thomas is ok I suppose I should mention that as well) a few months back which was unexpected and devastating but we found ourselves in the middle of the age old question when we finally decided to get another car…do we pull the trigger and get a minivan? We went back and forth a bit since we needed a vehicle that could provide us with lots of trunk space for hauling furniture and tools, fishing supplies, and luggage for road trips. It ended in a dead lock, as these things tend to do, between the sporty good looks of an SUV and the “comfort only a mother can give” feeling of a minivan and even threw the idea of a pickup truck into the mix a few times. Ultimately, we needed a vehicle with lots of cargo space. When it finally came down to it, it was a simple numbers game. The minivans were cheaper than the full sized SUVs (I must say I was not at all surprised seeing the massive number of them at the car dealership). So there we were, on a warm, sunny Sunday afternoon, making our way across the car lot, toward the fleet of minivans.

I must say that after owning it for a while, I really, really love it. The ride is really smooth and the overall feel of it is amazing. We have hauled a ton of furniture and other things in the back already and I am looking forward to seeing how many suitcases and random things I can get back there for our summer vacation. I might even be secretly hoping to have more than one kid to drive around with someday. I know that this vehicle will serve us well for years to come. And I have learned that a minivan does not steal all of your coolness, the coolness of a person comes from within and no vehicle, no matter what the stigma behind it is, can take away the awesomeness of a person. I am a cool minivan mom.