September 13, 2010

Not Ready for This

Friday was Lil C's Preschool Open House. She got to bring her favorite person with her (me) and it only lasted for an hour. Even then, she was a bit tentative and nervous. When we came home, I asked her why she wanted to sit with me and eat her snack instead of with the other kids. She said, "Because I just love you Mommy."

At dinner on Friday night, she told Mr. BBM that Preschool was fun, but that she wasn't digging the clean up song her teacher sang when it was time to put the Play-Dough away. "It freaked me out," she told Mr. BBM. For a second, I thought Mr. BBM would blow his dinner right out his nose. He composed himself and asked her, "Why?"

"That's really a baby song," she said, "and I am NOT a baby." The look she gave the teacher when she started singing that song said all of that and more.

To be honest, Lil C did seem a bit more grown up than some of the other kids. After all, she has an October birthday. One little girl in her class just turned four this past weekend. Lil C turns five in just a few weeks. As they were sitting around the table eating their snacks, some of the kids were making silly faces at each other and acting goofy. She sat there and gave them the evil eye, the same one I used to give my 6th grade teacher according to my report card.

Lil C has always been more comfortable around adults than she is with other kids. She getsme and I get her. She talks to my physical therapists as if she's their best friend. She communicates with my surgeon with more frankness than I do. At the few larger play dates we've attended, she chose to sit with the moms instead of going off to play with the kids. This year, she decided she doesn't want to have a big birthday party like she did last year. She said she wants us to take her to the zoo instead. "Last year was crazy," she said, "there were just too many people."

All weekend long, she said she didn't want to go to school. She said she was scared and she just wanted to stay home with me. This morning, it was even worse. We got her dressed and fed and ready to go and she just stood at the door. "I really don't want to go," she said.

The entire drive there she complained too, and when I opened up the car door for her to get out, she stayed glued to her seat. Eventually, she came out, but she clung to me like saran wrap as we walked through the doors. Her steps slowed and her feet shuffled as we got closer to her classroom. It felt like she added 20 more pounds to her little self as she leaned away from the door.

The other kids sat around a carpet and played but she stood near me and continued to chant like a mantra, "I don't want to stay here." The teachers told us to come across the hall and pick out a toy to play with. I saw play cupcakes and cookies and knew she would love that. We carried the toys back to the room and set them down. Instantly, they were gone. Some little girl with the same name as my junior high arch nemesis scooped them up and was off. Another little girl grabbed most of the cupcakes. They were like toy vultures, and it certainly didn't help things.

I told her to take that spatula and go get some of those cookies, and thought in my head that those kids are going to be in for it in a couple weeks when she's being herself. Then I leaned down and hugged and kissed her, and told her I was going to go wait in the lobby for her. That's when the tears started. I told the teacher I didn't know what to do and she said gently, "Just go. It's ok." Lil C reached out for my arm and started to execute a full out sprint towards me that was intercepted by her teacher. I told her I loved her and walked out of the room. She wasn't the only one crying.

If there is one thing I know this morning, it's that my kids have grown up way too fast. Lil C wasn't ready this morning, and I can't blame her. I'm not ready either.