He has been in preschool for three years. He has a September birthday and we live in a public-school district with an August 1st cutoff. So when he started three-year old preschool in the fall of 2005 he was one of the youngest in the class. He was barely potty-trained and he clung to my like glue as I said good-bye the first few weeks. I was afraid he would never adjust and he would be attached to my hip until he was 18.
Now, three years later, I drop him off and he barely looks back to say ‘good-bye’. As I call him back to give him a kiss on the cheek he rolls his eyes as if to say, “MOM, PLEASE, not in front of my friends!” He’s happy to see me at the end of the morning and tell me about his adventures. He talks about his school-friends all day long. Oh and his teacher, she’s better then sliced bread in his world!
I’m not ready to give up my preschooler! Who gave him permission to grow older? Who gave the preschool teachers permission to help him make this right of passage? How can a mother be so thrilled to see him thrive, yet at the same time lament the fact that he is growing up?
Thanks goodness he has a younger brother! Wow, I am going to be a mess when the “baby of the family” decides to grow up :).byLeanneonThursday, May 22, 2008Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to PinterestMilitary Life:growing up,Leanne,preschool