As I picked #2 up from preschool last Friday, his teacher stopped me (which in and of itself induces a state of panic as the last time she did that it was to tell me that my son had proudly informed his classmates that "holy shit" was a bad word) "I almost forgot to give you this!" as she handed me a thick sheaf of papers...I must have looked confused so she clarified for me: "It's the registration packet for next year, we let current families register..." She broke off mid-sentence and started to laugh, "Whoops! Forgot that you guys won't need this, he gets to go to Kindergarten next year!" I offered up what could only be described as a sickly courtesy laugh, as her face began going in and out of focus and the ground started spinning. I was afraid I was going to vomit on her I'm-ridiculously-all-too-cheerful-all-the-time preschool teacher shoes so we bolted...just before I could knock Mr. Blue Bird off of Miss Zippidy Doo Da's perky shoulder. Bitch.
I'm surprised we made it home that day in one piece as I was now fixated on one thing: KINDERGARTEN. Yes, I realize that I went down a similar path with #1 a few years ago but this was different. This is my baby BOY we're talking about here. Going to freaking KINDERGARTEN. Oh HELL no. I was in a cold sweat and white-knuckling it the whole way home while he chattered away behind me, some nonsense about the letter P and how he gets to wear pajamas to school. Yeah, whatever pal...you're going to be living in your pajamas because your ass is NOT going to kindergarten. I'm seriously going to be expected to put my baby BOY on a school bus all by himself next year? Let him be gone ALL DAY LONG? Walk through those huge hallways alone? Stand in line and buy a lunch at the cafeteria?? No friggin way. I still have to wipe his butt sometimes! It takes him 45 minutes to poop...he strips down completely and whiles away almost an hour in the bathroom humming Star Wars songs. He can't do that in kindergarten! Great, he's going to develop bowel problems now. He'll become "that kid": either the one who refuses to poop at school, shits his pants during recess because he was afraid to ask permission to go, or the one who gets made fun of for dropping trou completely on the floor (along with socks, shoes, and shirt) to sit on the shitter and sing songs for an hour. Ugh, I need a drink. The BUS???? No way. Because although up until now I thought the bus driver was a relatively upstanding citizen, chances are the second I'm expected to put my boy on that bus my brain is going to switch gears and he will instantly morph into an escaped convict with a rap sheet longer than my driveway and yep, he's drunk too(and probably sells drugs on the side...to the kids on the bus). You just can't find good help nowadays. The idea of this little guy standing in line at the cafeteria clutching his lunch money makes me want to vomit. He's too little for this stuff. He can't do that by himself, and heaven help us all if he announces to the lunch lady that today's offering looks "nasty". Who is going to identify every little speck of food he's expected to eat? Ok, we can eliminate all potential issues by never letting him buy a lunch (even though his big sister has told him how awesome it is). But chances are he's expecting something akin to a Happy Meal, or the sandwiches I make with the crust lovingly cut off, cut into triangles, NOT squares and with his grapes as eyes and apple slice as the smiley mouth...like only a mom would do at HOME. So we'll put the kabash on lunch buying before it's even an option. Nope, he'll get his stand-by, peanut butter and jelly, pretzels, and applesauce...every day, for an entire year. But it takes him damn near an hour to eat lunch every day...how's he going to do that in kindergarten??? He won't have time to eat! He's going to STARVE???? So I guess I won't have to worry about him shitting his pants at recess, because he will be too weak and emaciated to have bowel movements. Images of my sweet boy sitting at his desk silently crying into his coloring sheet with hunger pangs send my blood pressure through the roof. And don't even get me started on academics. He's going to be the first kid kicked out of kindergarten. Some days my husband and I marvel over how smart he is but then the next we're left dumbfounded as he tells us all about the letter he learned about in school that day: 2. Yep, he's a genius. He'd much rather spend his days setting up battles with Legos than write his name (which he does backwards, by the way) Shit, I can't handle the pressure of kindergarten. Then there is naptime. Here is my theory: If they need a nap at school, then they are either WAY too young to be there or the school day is altogether too long. Kids nap at HOME. That is where he will be napping next year. And can you even bring your special blankie and 12 stuffed best friends to Kindergarten with you? I think not. Point taken. And what about show-n-tell? It takes my kid 52 minutes to recap the 25 minute video that we just wtched TOGETHER. He is going to be embarassed into a submissive mute when the teacher cuts him off 60 seconds into his explanation of how cool his army guys are. And who will he hug when this happens? The kid next to him on the rug eating his boogers? Or the girl who can't sit still and is getting into my baby's personal space? I know there are some parents of preschoolers out there who have made themselves secret construction paper chains and are taking off a link everyday as they count down to kindergarten AKA mommy freedom. But I'm not one of them. I am trying to find a way to freeze my children...stunt their growth. They have already rejected cigarettes and coffee. We already waited a year so he'd be the "older" kid and even that isn't making me feel better. Nope, he can go to kindergarten some other time....like when he's 12 or so.
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