I visited another preschool today and they actually have an opening to start immediately, since a family just moved. This is very fortunate since all the other places I visited or called have nothing until the fall. And it turns out the director of A Child's Place at Wellspring Methodist Church is a lady I know. Or used to know. We both went to Southwestern and our ex-husbands used to party together. I vaguely remember that she was a preschool director in those days. Never thought I'd be putting a kid into her program, but it is a really small world. Especially in Georgetown.
Jackson again didn't want to leave and threw an absolute fit. He just wants to stay and play with the kids and more importantly, all the new and different toys they have there. So I am gathering his shot records and buying him a lunch box and starting Tuesday, he goes to school twice a week 9a to 1p. I think he will like it.
I am nervous. I wonder if he will behave. Will he follow the rules? Whine like he does at home when he doesn't get his way? I know I shouldn't worry. He is two and will act like a two-year-old, sometimes good, sometimes bad. I guess what I am feeling is about me, really. Will he behave and be a good boy and reflect well on me as a parent? Or will he be known as the class brat, the difficult child whose mother must be a pushover. People tell me he is well-behaved, but what they see is that he is not so much well-behaved as he is sociable and happy in a world where people pretty much give him whatever he wants. He does not like to do as I say. He does what he pleases unless forced to do otherwise. How will he do in an environment that doesn't revolve around him? He won't be the only kid in the room anymore. Cute and charming can only get you so far, you have to learn how to negotiate within your peer circle. I suppose this is the first step for him. It should be pretty laid back as they don't start their real curriculum until three-years-old. They focus on play and interaction with others. Storytime. Lots of playtime outside. That sort of thing. This will give him an opportunity to figure out how to socialize when he isn't with mom, dad or doting grandparents. I am excited for him. And worried. But not too worried.
People at work have told me that the first day will be hard on me and I will probably cry to leave him at school. But I don't think I will. I did all that last July when I had to pack his bag and send him to his grandparents for four days while I got my port implanted and a bone marrow biopsy and had my first chemo. Putting him in the car that day was hard. Sending him away because I had cancer made me sob. Even though it was only four days, it felt awful. All summer and fall I sent him off so I could have chemo. Leaving him at preschool for four hours twice a week can't compare with that. I had to come to grips with letting go of him for his own good. I don't see me crying over preschool. This, I am doing by choice.
I am continuing to do the pilates and aerobics videos several times a week. Well, a few times a week. If I do it three days out of seven, does that qualify as several? It sounds better to me than 'a few.' A 'few' sounds lazy. As in "I only get off my ass 'a few' times a week to work out." 'Several' sounds so ambitious. "Several times a week Marsha does her body and her backside good by stretching and stregnthening her muscles." See? Much better.
But seriously, I am really beginning to see a diffence in my strength. Still no change on the scale. I guess I am only counteracting the cupcakes and cookies I can't stop eating. But I am feeling sronger and leaner, if not lighter. If I could make myself go from 'a few' workouts to truly 'several' and maybe even up it to 'often', I'd be a hard-body. That would rock!
I can't believe I am going to be in New york City in 13 days. Wow. David and I are getting excited. Seems unreal. But it is fast approaching and I need to get on the stick and make sure I have everything I need and look up what I can and can't take on the airplane. I haven't been on a place since pre-9/11. Makes me a little nervous, but I'll get over it.