One small step for Miles, one giant leap for his mom

My son started preschool today.

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It’s kind of a landmark moment. Miles has been a stay-at-home kid for the last 18 months or so. At barely three years old, that’s probably all he remembers.
But now, he’s going to have a schedule to keep, get up on time, get dressed and ready to go. That’s a big enough adjustment for a kid who spends many mornings lazily camped out in the living room playing with trains with no pants on.
But now there’s the preschool.
Miles doesn’t have much experience being around lots of other kids. He plays well in small groups of two or three, but put him among a bigger play group and he usually stands around on his own watching, seemingly unsure of what to do.

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There’s also the structure to worry about. Miles isn’t a kid who really likes to sit still for more than 30 seconds or so at a time. At school, he’ll be expected to do so for 10 to 15 minutes at a time. And since it’s a Catholic preschool, he’ll also be expected to go into the church sanctuary and be quiet. That should be interesting, considering one of his most-loved activities is running and screaming random nonsense at the top of his lungs.
But he’s a little kid, and they’re flexible. He’ll figure it out, I’m sure.
His parents, well into their 30s, maybe aren’t as flexible when it comes to changes these days.
The school he’ll be going to has wonderful staff and a great program set up. My concerns are not that he’ll be mistreated or put in an unsafe situation. I don’t worry about that one bit.
It’s just the fact that he’ll be going into the world, all on his own. It may be only for a few hours, four days a week, but those are going to be some pretty interesting hours for him.

He’ll be learning new things not just from his teachers but also from the other children. He’ll be bringing home new germs and new ideas along with macaroni-glued artwork and fingerprinted Thanksgiving turkeys.

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There’s no doubt that it will be a beneficial experience for him, but still, there’s just a little bit of fear, or trepidation. You hope he won’t be a bully, or be bullied. You hope he’ll listen to and obey his teachers. You hope we’ve taught him well enough to go be a productive member of his little preschool society.
But when you really get down to it, all that is kind of out of our control.
Here goes nothing.

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