Honestly, I don't know how parents of bygone eras did it--in many ways. Never mind the fact that they didn't have the benefit of 200 television channels (though we only watch about three of them because I hate commercials and try my best to at least shield the kids for that bit of television evil, if I can't manage to shield them entirely from television itself--which, I hate to admit, I've failed miserably in doing) or the internet to escape to for a scant few minutes every once in awhile to see what's going on in the world around them while the kids are momentarily distracted with something non-pointy. What did stay at home parents do all day before this to keep from going insane? Clean the house? Cook long, complicated meals that demanded they stay in the kitchen and away from the children (one of the primary joys, I've found, in making dinner for the family, by the by)? I mean, besides play with the kids all day. It fills me with true respect for my mom and every other parent who managed to do it without going stark raving nutters. I'm not so sure I could do it.
And add to that the fact that my brothers and I didn't go to school of any sort until we left for kindergarten at five! FIVE! We were practically old enough to drive before mom was able to get us out of the house long enough to have a complete thought without someone screaming in the background!
I don't think that was the right way to do things, necessarily (not that she had a choice--being out in the middle of nowhere, I don't think preschool was even an option for us). I can still vividly remember my first few weeks of kindergarten. I hated it with a passion. Up to that point, I'd had little contact with strangers (again, due to our remote location and the few opportunities for socialization it offered us)--and even less experience with being away from my house and parents. I did not make the transition well. I cried and screamed and spent WEEKS adjusting. A neighbor child who was six or seven years older than me--who I was fairly familiar with--had to be brought in from his grade school classes for a little while during the first two weeks of school to draw and color with me to help sooth my nerves. It was a catastrophe that I think could have been avoided if I'd only had a little more experience being away from my mother at an earlier age. This, more than anything, is the reason why I have been a big proponent of getting Gabe out into the world as early as possible and why we'll put Norah into preschool as well.
That's not to say that I think I'm somehow inferior for my lack of early socialization. I'm not. I like me just fine. In fact, I strongly believe that if the majority of the population was more like me, the world would be a quiet, efficient, mostly problem-free world. But the majority of people AREN'T like me, not by a long shot, and I want Gabe and Norah to have as much chance at being successful as possible. And that means they need to be social creatures. Successful people are networking people. I hate networking, and the reasons for that, I think, can be traced back to my early, formative years.
Plus, it gets him out of my hair for a few hours a week. And thank Odin for that.
Last night was orientation for the preschool. Libby managed to get a few pictures, but it was with her phone and they are understandably blurry. Somehow we managed to forget the real camera. Dummies.
Anyway, it was a bit on the chaotic side as it was orientation for the ENTIRE preschool, not just his class. There were probably forty kids and another thirty or so parents all of them crammed into the one preschool room for about forty-five minutes.
Gabe was as happy as a lark and he really seemed to forget we were even there for most of it. He mingled with the other kids and did a fair to middling job of listening to instructions when the teacher gathered all the students on the purple rug for some little sample story times and activities (of course, when he wasn't directly involved in those stories or activities, he started to get pretty antsy, so I wish his teachers luck with breaking him of his ADD). When they declared it was time to go outside and play on the playground equipment for a little bit, Gabe ran up to the front of the exodus leaving the room and barely looked back to see if we were following.
I think he'll make the transition pretty well. This first year, the days are short--going only from 8:30-11:30--and there are just two days of school a week. But it will be good practice for when kindergarten starts--which is especially important since our kindergartens are full school days and not just half days.
For me, it will really not mean anymore freedom, as Norah without Gabe to distract and entertain her is often needier than both kids being home together. While she will sit and play with the same toy for twenty minutes and genuinely enjoy herself, she's only happy about it if I'm sitting right next to her the entire time. If I'm not, and Gabe's not around, she quickly loses interest, comes and finds me, and starts to whine until I come back in and let her hit me with whatever toy she's playing with or poke me in the eyes for awhile. Sadly, I can't even lie on the floor anymore and just let her play on or around me as I once could. Now, as soon as I lie down, she slowly backs up to my head and sits down on it. Sometimes she bounces. Add to that all of the time it will take to get them both loaded up, unloaded, reloaded, and unloaded again--plus getting dressed and ready and making sure everyone is sufficiently fed to make it through the morning--and you've got the recipe for me being five times busier than normal two mornings of every week.
But it's an important first step--a first step that will lead to BOTH kids eventually being in school for ENTIRE DAYS and me being able to finally focus on something else. Of course, by that time, I won't even remember what I liked to focus on before we had kids, but that's neither here nor there.
The first gathering of children. This was right after she called them--Gabe happened to be right there already. Eventually, there was little room to move on the purple carpet.
Gabe playing the ukulele. This would be an excellent instrument for him to get into. It's small, quiet, and pretty much guarantees that he'll only be playing Don Ho style Hawaiian music or Blue Grass--preferably Blue Grass.
Gabe playing with a hippo. Considering all the strange things he knows, I was surprised that he couldn't identify a hippo. He should be able to now. I also went to great plains to explain to him that, even though they LOOK like harmless swamp cows, they are deadly, dangerous, angry, mean creatures that will never hesitate to snap him in two with their powerful jaws. Hopefully that sinks in, should he ever find himself on safari somewhere.And that was all the pictures we got. Not the best photo-journalism we've ever managed. But what can you do? He starts Thursday morning, and I'm sure I will update more then, but I rather doubt we'll get many more pictures. Libby has a program that morning, so I'll be shuttling him there by myself, and carrying thirty pounds of Butts and trying to get pictures at the same time doesn't sound like a very successful venture. We will get SOME pictures, though, be sure of that.
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