Back in February, Chris and I chose to enroll him in pre-school for fall in hopes of him socializing more, learning more, and getting used to structure. I wouldn't say he has any social problems to sort out, but he loves being around kids, so we thought it'd be good for him. He is a smart kid, but it is hard for me to teach him at home when Jack is around. Eliot will either completely ignore me when I try to work with him or will do an entire workbook in one sitting. As for structure, I wanted to get him used to school and listening to other adults. Since Chris and I work from home, that extra time with Eliot at pre-school will really help.
Sometimes, though, I don't want to let him go. He doesn't have to go this early. It's optional. Totally optional. I worry about him. He has been saying he is excited for school, yet when he found out that I'd be leaving him there, he didn't seem so stoked.
However, we went to open house on Monday. His teachers were nice and he talked to them. I was relieved that he wasn't too shy (and closing his eyes) or too outgoing (and saying crazy things about Godzilla). I had him use the potty there to show him that it wasn't loud and scary. He played with toys. He didn't want to leave. I left feeling much better about the whole situation, and I think he did too.
Of course, I still worry. I worry about pre-school and then kindergarten and middle school and high school. I can't imagine him walking down a hall to his class by himself (which he won't this year, but eventually, I mean). I can't always be there, but I want to be. And I'll miss the little guy! I try to remind myself that it is only three hours. By the time I get home, do a load of laundry, and unload the dishwasher, it will almost be time to go pick him up.
When I worry, I try to think of my own pre-school experiences.
When I was three, I attended a mom's day out program once a week. I don't remember how long it was. I remember there being a lot of kids and a slide and a playground and doing crafts of a squirrel made out of foam while I sat on the lap of an old lady. When I would get home, my mom would say that she could smell the old lady's perfume on me. It was a positive experience, I think. Then the next year, when I was four, I went to a traditional pre-school at the same church. I remember sitting at a desk. I remember my backpack, watching The Land Before Time, and going to a music class. We didn't like the music teacher. We said she was mean, so we would mouth the words unless she got close--then we'd sing loud because we were scared. I say "we" because one of my neighbors went to the same pre-school.
I didn't really have negative experiences at school until fifth grade (we won't go there...). I mean, I had scuffles and not good experiences, but nothing that caused me to come home crying or impacted me overall. So, all I can do is try to stay involved, build him up at home, earn and maintain his trust, and continue to pray for him.
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