Hunter started preschool a couple weeks ago (well, actually, I guess it was August 31, so I should say last month) and he LOVES it! We are also doing joyschool with the neighbor friends, and all though I was worried about overbooking him, Hunter loves it and continually asks to have a "busy day" everyday. (Wednesdays he has joyschool from 10-12 and preschool from 12:30-3)
Anyway, back to preschool. Here he is on the first day, telling me how old he is:
Hunter is a super adjustable kid, and can get along with just about 99.9% of the kid population, so I wasn't worried at all for him... At least, I didn't think I had any anxiety until it was time for me to leave.
Hunter had no problem; he went right in, found his name & his little pillow, sat in the circle & started spouting off questions for Miss Sharon immediately.
I sat there, pleasantly watching, until I looked around and realized the other moms had all left...
Here I am, the mom who prides herself on fostering independence, the mom who doesn't think twice about leaving the kids with a sitter, the mom who has a hard time tolerating a kid clinging to my leg- and I was having a horribly hard time leaving him at preschool.
I ended up driving around like a stalker, counting down until the almost two-and-a-half-hours later, when the kids came outside to play (she has them come outside while they wait for the moms to pick them up).
Hunter wasn't phased a bit, and was (of course) surrounded by the ladies from the start:
Since then, we (well, I) have adjusted to the new schedule. We're carpooling with a friend who has a little girl, and can I just say, the male vs female communication saga has begun. Little girls divulge way more information than boys.
For example, on the days I don't drive, Hunter will come in and I'll ask: "So, what did you do at school today?"
"I forgot," he'll mumble as he runs into the playroom.
Me(following): "Did you read any stories?"
Him: "Yeah."
Me: "What were they about?"
Him: "I don't know."
Me: "Did you have a snack?"
Him: "I don't remember."
Me(opening his backpack, pulling out his worksheets): "Oh, look! The letter "B!" Did you talk about this letter today?
Him: "Yeah."
And so on and so on...
On the days I do drive, I say, "What happened today?"
Hunter mumbles "Nothing," while little Emma says something like "Well, today we read a story about the ugly duckling and then we named all the animals on a farm and then we talked about our families and sang songs and traced names and wrote numbers and then Abby was naughty so she went to time out and then today we got Popsicles 'cuz it was really hot and then our teacher told us next time we get to make gingerbread men and I'm really happy 'cuz I like gingerbread men and..." (You get the idea)
So, since this post is all about Hunter, I thought I would end with our most memorable conversation this last week:
As we were driving he saw a black truck (sorry, I'd tell you what kind, but I'm not really into that) and said "I want to get a truck like that!"
"You'll have to save your money," I said, "Because trucks like that cost a lot of money."
"Okay," he thought for a minute. "Then I'll save all my money for a truck and I won't give any to Jesus."
(We proceeded to have an in-depth conversation about tithing and how Heavenly Father and Jesus have given us all that we have)
"Okay, but I'm only giving one penny to Jesus. The rest is for my truck! Porter (his cousin) has a truck and he can put his big dog in that truck. I want a big dog like Porter's..."
--Maybe I'm doing something wrong here?!
