Second First

Last Thursday was Everett's second first day of preschool. He was very excited, and a little anxious to be at a new place with new people. He enjoyed the open house we attended, and I think it will be a very good fit for him. He goes two days a week (thank goodness; I don't want him gone more often than that at this age). The preschool program, which is part of a larger catholic school just up the road from us, encourages the kids to enjoy the learning process rather than focusing on the end result. This is exactly what I was hoping for; now I just need to see if this is what actually happens. Everett has his whole life to have words and numbers pushed at him. I just want him to have fun and have experiences I can't have with him at home.

Everett was not too keen on the idea of a first-day-of-preschool photo shoot. The best I got out of him was a forced smile.

Left: November 2009, first day of speech-therapy preschool

Right: September 2010, first day of regular preschool

Has he changed much in the last ten months? It sure looks like it!

But I think he's still just as much my goofy little boy.

I enjoyed dropping Everett off for his first day. It was really fun to watch the other parents. The kids had their names written in all sorts of places: above the hooks for their backpacks, on the door, and on a little red paper they need to put in a green can for attendance. Some kids knew how to recognize their name and some didn't. Some parents were concerned about it and some were more relaxed. One mom in particular seemed to be a little anxious about her son's ability to do so.

She was kneeling next to him at the attendance table. "Noah," she said, sounding a little worried, "Can you find your name and put it in the green cup?"

Noah pointed at a name right in front of him. Chase, it said. Noah's mom asked him again. Noah pointed at another name that wasn't right. She asked him a few more times, sounding more and more pleading as he just wasn't getting it. Quite a few other kids had already come through and identified their name, and she seemed to feel a little urgent about Noah following suit.

Noah never found his name. She looked quite disappointed and very worried. I wanted to go up to her and tell her that it didn't matter and that he has all year to figure it out, and that I'm sure he knows a whole bunch of other more important things about the world around him. Maybe I should have.

Most of the kids in Everett's class seemed excited to be there. They enthusiastically washed their hands and sat at their tables with an activity. The parents milled about, reluctant to leave. Some helped their children with the activity. Some stood against the wall, trying their best to avoid eye contact with the teacher. A few brave parents asked, "Well, is that it, then?" seemingly hoping for her to give them another task. Instead, she did her best to kindly but firmly usher them out the door. They lingered in the doorway and walked slowly down the hall and back out the front doors.

I think the first day of preschool is harder for parents than it is for the kids. If Everett hadn't have already participated in his speech therapy preschool class last year, I might have had a difficult time letting go as well. Right now, however, as I'm sitting in a quiet house (the younger ones are napping), this whole preschool thing feels like a wonderful arrangement.