“Mr. Stream? Do you have a moment to chat with me in my office?” the preschool principal began as she approached Jon after drop-off on Monday.
Because that’s not even remotely foreboding to get called to the principal’s office that way. Oh god – the muppets were getting expelled. (Please never underestimate my ability to jump to the worst possible conclusion. Every. Time. It’s a gift.)
Oh my god! They’ve discovered the snark of my blog and decided the boys “aren’t a good fit for the school” given the inability of their mother to keep any bit of the two muppets lives off the interwebs.
Look – I was just kidding about the environment in which my children are being educated! We really do like it there – even the crazy Giants fan teachers.
Ack! This is going to track back to the time Search got suspended for biting (two of his friends, his brother and the intervening teacher) or showed up with a black eye on his second day of day care ever. Then, last week when I arrived to retrieve my small people I discovered a sobbing Destroy with blood gushing from his nose.
There had been an “incident” with a friend. Accidental. Ok fine. “Incident” vs. “head-on slide collision due to an inability to successfully navigate the simultaneous up and down attempts.” Destroy was sobbing because he was subsequently removed from the slide.
But there was no official write-up of the athletic feat. Because I was there to pick him up. And all the teachers know both of my kids to get into all kinds of things and get hurt all the time. I guess they just have to pick and choose the reports.
Yay for my parenting skills. Kids known for their injuries. (They’re not wounded – they’re adventurous and overeager to explore all the options the world has to offer.)
“Yeahno,” Jon interrupted my frantic free-association. “Would you like to hear what the meeting was *actually* about?”
This August Search and Destroy will move to the 3-Year-Old class. The following August they’ll enter pre-K. From there we will need to decide where we want to send the boys to kindergarten.
How did that happen? Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was bathed in hand sanitizer gently placing my hand over the entire being of a 2-pound child?
Our nurses warned me that our NICU days would fade into merely a memory. But I wasn’t listening; I was busy fretting that we’d never make it out of those pale purple hospital walls.
This Sunday is Parents of Preemies Day. And I am in awe of how far my preemies have come (as well as so many more in this community). I wish all parents going through the roller coaster now the courage to breathe today and panic tomorrow about your little fighter growing up so damn fast!
In reality, I am looking forward to the upcoming graduation. Preschool with potty-trained kids leads to a multiples discount at school – which will result in a significant savings. My GOD shit is expensive… (Pun very much so fully intended.)
5 Responses to Where Does the Time Go?
My preemie is now 28. And I can’t believe how fast the time went. It’s so hard to imagine that those days in the NICU will soon be behind you, and the next thing you know your kid is grown and on their own. Good luck with the potty training, I don’t know if its a preemie problem or not, but it took forever for mine to get the hang of it.
Not the mom of a preemie, but I so totally relate to your ability to rush to the worst possible conclusion about something. I can run through 13 negative scenarios before landing on one good one. Bust out the jump to conclusions mat.
Best Office Space reference ever!
I always expect the worst – it must be genetic! Good golly, kindergarten – it does feel like time is just slipping away – I’m looking at them in their jammies with Mitch from a year ago!
I just listened to this radiolab episode. http://www.radiolab.org/2013/apr/30/
And it might be the most amazing hour of radio ever.
I want to read the article too.