First preschool lunch

Today was Jack's first day of four-hour preschool. He had been going two hours, two days a week, but his school offers what's called "enrichment" for the second semester. That means he spends another two hours at school doing another class (science on Tuesdays and cooking on Thursdays) and eats lunch there, and I spend a leisurely morning at home eating bonbons and reading celebrity gossip.

I kid, I kid. I actually spent the extra two hours playing with Emmie, cleaning the kitchen and taking a shower. It was nice not to have to rush around like a crazy person trying to get stuff done, get Emmie down for a nap and shower all in 90 minutes.

Last night I packed up Jack's first school lunch in his new Laptop Lunchbox (no BPA or plastic bad stuff and it's super-cute) with great excitement. OK, not great excitement, but lukewarm enthusiasm. You see, his school requires nut-free, vegetarian lunches. So I couldn't pack his standby much-loved almond butter sandwich. Nor a turkey sandwich. Instead, he got a cold cheese sandwich. Doesn't that sound ... appetizing?

In addition, I threw in some carrots and some blueberries, a squeezable yogurt tube and some milk. All things he eats for lunch at home. All things he likes. I even put in a little note for him telling him to have a good lunch with love from Mommy, Daddy and Emmie.

When I unpacked the lunchbox at home after school, it contained empty spots where the cheese sandwich and milk had been. The carrots, blueberries and yogurt were still nestled into their original spots. Allrighty then.

Next up for Thursday: hummus and pita. This ought to go over real well.

Busy day

Emmie and her double ear infection slept until 8:15 a.m. this morning. She did wake once at 6 a.m. and then we threw her in the swing and got two more hours out of her. So that was awesome.

Not so awesome was the fact she ran a fever off and on today. So apparently the three doses of antibiotics have yet to kick in. And I took her for the Thansgiving celebration at Jack's preschool this morning. In my defense, I had no other option and I didn't let her touch anyone else. And it's an ear infection, for God's sake. It's not like it's leaping from her ear to someone else's.

But oh my, what cuteness the Thanksgiving was. There were headbands and snacks and stories and snacks and did I mention the snacks? Because those were Jack's favorite part.



After turkey day at school, I put Emmie down for her nap and headed out with Jack for his flu vaccine. Lucky for Jack, he is old enough for the flu mist so he didn't have to get a shot. He was a trooper and collected his two stickers after allowing the nice nurse to "look in his nose," as Mommy put it.

Then this evening, Josh and I hosted a cocktail party for the parents in Jack's preschool class. We had a great time and it seemed like everyone else did as well. At least they left with a few glasses of wine under their belts, so it had to be somewhat fun.

Tomorrow, we begin our holiday travels hither and yon -- with two kids this year! One of them sick! I can't wait!

My mouth just runs and runs

Tonight I had a little parent meeting at Jack's preschool. Kind of a PTA thing, but on a much smaller scale. There were six parents and two administrators; seven women and one man.

We were talking about gifts for the teachers at holiday time. Somehow the talk turned to what some of the parents (former teachers) had received from their students back in the day.

One mom shared that she had received bottles of wine from several parents, which she joked either meant they really liked her or thought she really needed to relax.

So what do I do? I pipe up with a teacher/student gift story of my own.

One of our good friends was a high-school art teacher at an all-girls high school. She was leaving at the end of the year and was not returning to teach the following school year. Our friend is a very cool girl, so I can see how all her students would think she was cool as well.

On her last day, one of her students gave her a teddy bear and told her to look inside it when she got home. The bear, it contained a bag of pot.

And I told this story. To the director of my son's preschool. Seriously, does my mouth have an on/off switch? (Josh, do not answer that.)

Doing his own thing

Jack has always been a bit of a "free spirit" when it comes to classes (music, art, play). He's always been one to run around when he's supposed to be sitting in the circle or doing an activity all the other kids are doing. In art class, he was pretty good, but I was the one keeping him on task the whole time and making him sit rightnexttome. Not to mention the fact 99 percent of the projects at that class were done by me. I am Picasso with the fingerpaints, let me tell you.

Now, he's doing the same thing in preschool. The three days he has gone, I have looked in at the end of the class and the other kids are on the rug singing a song and my kid is on the other side of the room playing with toys. I asked his teacher about it Tuesday and she said he does not participate, but she doesn't think it's that big of a deal. That day, all the kids made an art project and Jack played with toys. Maybe he has something against construction paper and tissue, but I haven't seen him express a preference for working with clay or paper maiche as his medium, so I have to discount that theory.

His teacher told me their classroom beliefs are such that they would never force a child to do something and that she will try to engage him to take part every few minutes, but if he doesn't want to do it, he won't have to.

Now, I understand this is only his second week of school. BUT. This is a pattern. He acts like this in all his other classes and now there. We even had the same thing happen at his first soccer class last week and it was a disaster because all the other kids listened and followed directions and Jack refused to do any of it. They said run this way and he ran the opposite way. Let me tell you, that's not the way to train for winning a World Cup. Josh left the class with him because it was such a production.

I know he's only 2 1/2. I know I sound like a paranoid helicopter mom. But should I be worried? I don't want to see this become something that he does forever. Being a free spirit is fine, but you have to learn how to play the game when it comes to education or you won't succeed. I know it's just preschool, but I am really thinking this is a part of his personality. Josh thinks it's because he has no fear of us punishing him for not listening, so he doesn't ever have to do what we say. I don't think that's it, but I am stumped.

Of course, the only time he sits as he's supposed to with the other kids? Snack time. He's no fool.

Jack's first day of school

You'd think a child who has never seen the inside of a daycare center or the face of a babysitter other than immediate family members might have been a tad tentative about going to school. What with the leaving of the parents. And the staying there alone. Without mommy or daddy.

If you are talking about my child, you would be wrong. Because he was so excited to be at school today that when we arrived, he dropped our hands, launched himself into a hug with his beloved teacher, Miss Liz, and took off to play with the toys, leaving us in his wake.

We said goodbye and told him we were leaving and we walked out into the hall. We heard most of the other kids crying, one even ran down the hall after her parents. Our kid could not have cared less. No tears from him, nosiree.

We came back two hours later, after a delightful child-free morning at Starbucks (Emmie was with her aunt so we could make this morning all about Jack), and peeked in the window of the classroom door. We saw the kids singing a song on the carpet, while Jack and another boy were on the side playing with trucks.

Afterward, his other teacher, Miss Melissa, told us Jack had a great day exploring the classroom. Translation: your kid can't sit still and participate in circle time. I hope he can get it together by Thursday.

All the other kids ran out to greet their moms and dads, hugging them and smiling. Mine refused to come out of the classroom, and did so only to say hi to one of my Mommy friends. When we told him it was time to go home, he cried and said, "No go Jack's house! Stay!"

Apparently Jack is a fan of preschool. And I couldn't be more proud of him.

They'll need to learn to love me

We had two preschool events this week. First, we took Jack to see his classroom and meet his teacher and hang out with some of his classmates on Monday.

There were three other moms there who I didn't know and then our good friends (Jack's girlfriend is in his class) were also there. They asked where Emmie was and Josh and I simultaneously replied, "We left her in the car."

The other three moms and the teacher may or may not have audibly gasped and looked at us like we had just killed the class rabbit.

"I'm kidding!" I explained. I told them we left her with her aunt. My friend rolled her eyes and whispered, "Clearly, you're not the funny mommy here."

Which, what the hell? That's my thing. I am the funny mommy! I will make them laugh! They will want to hang out and be BFFs!

Last night, we had a parents-only orientation with the same people, plus a few more. I didn't speak, for fear of alienating anyone. In fact, I communicated with hand signals and charades. You should see my acting out of "potty training" -- it's inspired.

Since our children will be spending the next nine months together, I really hope these people find their senses of humor soon. Or it's going to be a long year for me at the drop off and pick up.

Wait, it's not over!

Remember when I posted that Jack was going to grow up stupid because he didn't get into a 2 1/2-year-old preschool program and we were all doomed, DOOMED?

Well fate was smiling upon me because we have him all signed up and ready to go in the fall. I am going to have to light a candle on the menorah in thanks for this one, since he will be attending the Jewish Community Center preschool.

After our fruitless attempts to get him into our two desired, pretty, pretty preschools, I was in a little funk. As was my friend, who is the mommy to Jack's main squeeze. She heard through the grapevine that the JCC had a program and it was reasonable so she checked it out and liked it enough to sign her daughter up. She suggested I take the tour because they had a few spots left.

Last week I showed up for my tour and upon entering the building, the first kid I saw was wearing an Albert Pujols Cardinals jersey. It was a sign -- how often do you see a Cardinals fan mere blocks from Wrigley Field? Not too often, let me tell you.

I thought it was cute. There were little tables and a rug for circle time and cubbies for their little items and coat hooks for their wee coats and one of the first questions out of my mouth was "How many spots do you have for next year?" The director responded I would get the last one and I signed on the dotted line. He'll go two days a week for two hours. It will cost the same amount that my parents paids to send me to private high school. Yes, we are paying for four hours what my parents paid for 40. But this is the city, and frankly, the price is reasonable compared to some of the programs.

For those that don't know us that well, and frankly how can you not know us that well if you read this blog as I talk about my CERVIX every five seconds, Josh was raised Jewish and I was raised Catholic. I think we would both classify ourselves as non-practicing and we definitely are not raising these children with or as a part of any religion. Morals and values, yes. Religion, not so much.

Imagine our surprise to see our son attending a Jewish preschool! And yes, it is definitely a religious curriculum. They told me they base the lessons loosely around the Jewish calendar. So, for instance, right now they are learning about Passover and doing ... well I have no idea other than having a Seder. And at Channukah I bet they make little menorahs. And all the things in the room are labeled in both English and Hebrew.

But you want to know something interesting? They said 40 percent of the families are not Jewish. Who doesn't like diversity and learning something new about different cultures and religions? And as Josh likes to point out, Judaism and Christianity share the Old Testament, so there's that. He's not really down with JC, though I like to point out that JC was a Jew too. He's not impressed.

But we're comfortable with the fact that Jack's going to be 2 years old and he's certainly not going to come home asking for a Bar Mitzvah. If he comes home singing the dreidel song, cool. Talks about lighting the Menorah, spiffy. If he wants to wear a yarmulke, I think I'll be drawing the line on that one.

But no matter. It's preschool for 2 1/2-year-olds. They're going to play and paint and learn to walk in a line and hold hands. If they want him to do it with a Jewish slant, be my guest.

We're so over before we begin

Last month, I toured the preschool we were interested in having our preeeeeshussssss, gifted, funny, empathetic, well-behaved toddler attend next fall. I would have toured two schools, but the day before the original tours my water broke and I wasn't able to hobble on down there the day after I pushed kid No. 2 out, so I had to reschedule and only one school could accomodate me.

Anyway.

So I toured the school, with its wee tables and chairs and its water tables and its toddler-sized toilets and I came home weeping because I had found the perfect place to send my child to school. I wanted to volunteer on every committee. I wanted to bring snacks for everyone. I wanted to gossip with the other moms at dropoff and pickup.

However, (pregnant pause) as at all preschools in our area, there was a lottery to get in. There were 20 total spots and they gave automatic admission to siblings and legacies. They had already filled those spots when I toured, so they knew they only had 10 spots available for the lottery. They alternate boy/girl when they choose, to balance out the classrooms, so that made it harder. Add in that they said they have six applicants for each of the 20 spots (that are now down to 10) and I realized we were going to be shit out of luck.

I told Josh that if he found me lying on the sidewalk outside in a few weeks, it would be because I had thrown myself out the window because my child could not attend this perfect preschool. One of only two in our area that take kids at 2 1/2 and cost less than $8,000 for two hours two days per week. (For those locals wondering, we applied to two Co-ops, both in Lincoln Park. Both have the word "Park" in the name. You can make your assumptions, but I am not naming names.)

Last week, we found out Jack was waitlisted at our second choice. They sent a letter saying he was 13th on the list. They might as well have said "You have no chance in hell of getting in here, but thanks for your $30 'application fee' and we'll see you at the playground suckas." But I could still hold out hope for the Uberpreschool.

I knew this was the week they were announcing the picks. Every time I came home and there was a message on the machine, my heart would leap. I might or might not have picked up the phone a few times, just to check and make sure it was working. (What am in seventh grade, waiting for Chad S. to call? Yes, I am 13 years old.)

Today, my friend called to say they got their letter from the oh-so-coveted pretty pretty preschool. They were waitlisted. I knew then that we didn't get in, so I was at least hoping for a good spot on the list. You know, like No. 1.

I had to wait until I was able to dislodge a nursing baby from the boob to run out to the mailbox. And sure as shit, there was my letter. I ran in the house and ripped it open.

18. He was No. 18.

I fell to the ground in a little puddle, hugging my knees to my chest, chanting, "He's doomed! He's doomed! He'll never get into a good college now." OK maybe I just swore under my breath and then called my friend to give her our results. You can believe whichever you want.

Again, I see them thanking me for the $30 application fee. Perhaps the membership committee was able to use it to buy margaritas while they were running the lottery picks. I certainly hope they got the Cuervo Gold if that's the case.

So now I have NO hope of time to myself next year. Wait, I mean no hope of my child learning creative play and the benefits of sharing and how to paint at an easel. Not that I would have gotten time to myself with the small one at home. But I did have visions of taking her to her very own baby classes and spending some quality one-on-one time with her. Or at least surfing the Internet with only one kid hanging on my leg.

Why yes, he's fluent

Today Josh and I attended a preschool informational fair.

Oh my sweet lord. Our child is not even 2 years old, and there were were, standing in line with our e-tickets and IDENTIFICATION. Yes, you had to show ID to get in. One person per e-ticket. One e-ticket per account member. Do not even think about sneaking in any contraband parents who are not members of the super-secret society of parents that sponsor the fair.

Note of disclosure, I resisted joining this society, because it costs $40 per year and hot damn, I was not paying anyone $40 per year to read message boards and set up play dates. Except then I heard they had a preschool fair every fall and all the cool parents were going and I of course wanted to be like the cool kids, so about five seconds later, they had my AmEx number and I had an e-ticket in my hot little hand.

They told us we had a one-hour slot. There would be more than 1,000 parents attending, they told us via e-mail, so we were to be on time. I am not sure what they planned to do once the clock struck 1 p.m. -- beat us all about the head with pamphlets and herd us out of the fieldhouse? But I was too scared to find out.

So at the appointed noon hour (OK, we were 15 minutes late, but for God's sake, we had to drive all the way north in traffic and it was Saturday and have you SEEN Lincoln Park traffic on the weekends?) we arrived and waited in line to speak with all the nice preschool representatives.

While we were waiting, there was a booth about learning Chinese. Our child, that is, not us. DVDs and books and pictures of multi-ethnic children grinning from ear to ear decorated the booth. I snorted, because, well the notion of teaching Jack Chinese when he refuses to even say two-syllable words in English seemed just ridiculous.

So the woman asks would we like our child to learn Chinese and Josh responds, "No thanks, he mastered that last month. This month we've moved on to Portugese."