Your Kiddo Doesn't Like Preschool? Give It Time!

This is my 'oh how sweet it is-my son loves preschool' post. If you read my post back in August after Luke's second day of preschool, you'd see the beauty in that line.  My son LOVES preschool!

You see, this is a tale of IT DOES GET BETTER.  That afternoon mid-summer, was followed by a few weeks of him screaming and crying in the morning begging to stay home because he just didn't like preschool. They won't let me do everything I want to there! Astonishing as it may be for a 3-year-old to get used to having to obey anyone besides his parents.  They're making me sleep! 

I called my mom and my closest friends.  Most assured me that if we just stick with it and were firm about the fact that preschool is a part of his life and there was no way he was getting out of it. Some mentioned how he was just testing us to see if he could get his way and stay home.  A couple tried to convince me that Luke would never nap at school and maybe we should just throw in the towel until Kindergarten.

And, trust me, there were a few morning where his whining would hit a nerve and I'd question paying $295/month just to have him hate it.  But, I stuck with it and after four days off, he woke up one morning and asked if he got to go to preschool today. I answered that he didn't, but he would return the next day - a Tuesday.  He squealed with delight. "Yay! I can't wait to see all of my friends!!"

Here we are four weeks later -

"Hi Leah!" his teacher greets me with her hands on my sons shoulders. "He was so good today, as usual! <<NOTE: as usual>> He's always the first to participate. He's so smart!"

I beam.

"And he is so loving.  Just so kind to all of us and his classmates.  Very social!" She continues.

I beam.

"Mommy, I was a good boy again, today!"

I beam. Then I hug him tightly.

"I know honey, I'm so proud of you! Your teachers are so happy with you!"

The teacher's assistant adds, "and he laid down on his cot and before he knew it, he was fast asleep!"

"He napped, too!" I looked down at my son.  He was beaming.

And home we went.

I know there will be plenty of ups and downs as he grows and our schedules change; but let this be a lesson to all of us that things really do change!

Be patient. Be hopeful. Be positive.  

A Letter To My Son On His Third Birthday

My son,

Today you are three.

Your passion and fire captivate me, while your tender heart compliments the whole of who you are becoming.

Luke, you are kind and full of love.  I see it so clearly in the impromptu hugs you tackle your little brother with or the tiny purple flowers you pick for your sweet little friend as you part ways at the playground.  The way you hug me so tight and tell me “you’re my best mommy in my whole, whole world” or the way your eyes light up when you see your daddy drive up from work.  Your excitement shows each night we Skype with your grandparents.

I delight in how you are so precise with your every single move.  The way you line up your Matchbox cars along the window sill.  How you run your “operating room” and have dad or I lay on the floor while you prepare for surgery as you handle each of your instruments one by one; concluding care with a rub on our foreheads as you tell us we’re “actually” going to be just fine.  How it is so rare that you get messy from a cupcake or a popsicle like most preschoolers can’t avoid.  You just take care.

You speak so well and your curiosity to learn encourages me to challenge you.  You point out punctuation and question everything.  You wonder.  You use your e-maj-uh-nay-shun.  With your innocent big smile, you aren’t shy to shout out a “hi” to everyone.  You miss your doggie Bailey; you love your doggie Yukon; and you wouldn’t miss a night without your doggie, whose only name-at almost three years old himself- is doggie.

Your emotions are powerful.  When you want something, you’ll fight for it.  When you disagree with something, you’ll argue it.  When you are sad to leave a group of friends or a super fun time, you are not afraid to throw down.   Bedtime-you’ll play it out until sleep finally wins.

You’ve designated your brother Zealand as “my ZZ” and you’ll jump at the chance to take away whatever toy he’s into at that moment, but you’re also quick to apologize when you get in trouble or to share with him a treat when you are given one.  You like green beans, spaghetti and meatballs, waffles, peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, ham and actually broccoli.   You’re not too fond of any type of potato, macaroni and cheese or rice.  Your favorite “special treats” these days are-to our fault and dismay- pop (that’s what your dad calls it, I call it soda) and gum (sugar-free, of course).       

You love to swim…be it the pool or the ocean.  And we have done so many things this year thanks to the amazing friends we’ve met.  Your first birthday parties, you were the first kid in the cockpit of a helicopter at an event-thanks to your dad, you were a pro this year at trick-or-treating, and you attended your first children’s theater production to which you yelled out to the cast throughout the show (in a good way!) as you smiled ear-to-ear and clapped at all the right parts.

I am so proud of the boy you are turning out to be.  I have cherished every moment of you.  The world is lucky to have you; as am I.  As are we, your family. 

I love you, my Luke.  ~mommy

I love you more than all of the fish in the sea.
You mean the whole world to me.
I love you, Luke.  Oh yes, I do. 
I love you.
I love you.
I do.

(I’ve been singing this song to him since he was just a few days old. Yes, I'm fully aware I am not a lyricist.  I do what works, people.  But I am proud that I came up with something and it stuck...and put him to sleep many-a-night.)

Starbucks Anyone?

Callie Jo Epp.  Where do I start?  She was one special little girl from the day she was born.  Our first-born child, and one of the first granddaughters, she was pretty much spoiled from the get-go.  I styled her in Gap and Old Navy–pretty pink dresses and fashionable matching shoes.  How could I help it?  Anyone who goes shopping for a baby girl can attest; they have the absolute cutest clothes available and it’s downright addicting. 

Another habit we started very early was taking my little girl to Starbucks.  You know you’re in trouble when your baby girl can only say a few words, including “Mommy” and “Daddy” and then “Starbucks!” as we drive by the familiar green sign. We were doomed!

Callie always knows exactly what she wants to order when we head to my all-time favorite coffee shop.  Kids’ hot chocolate, a vanilla milk box or chocolate milk box, and usually a vanilla bean scone.  Yes, my four-year-old happily walks up to the cashier and politely orders whatever her little heart may fancy that day.

Just the other day we were in a huge hurry.  I had to be to work in 35 minutes and had about a 25-minute commute, which included dropping my kids off at daycare.  I’d run out of creamer that morning, and let’s face it, folks, no coffee means zero brain power for this career woman.  So, off to Starbucks we went with an excited toddler pondering what she’d order.  When we got to the drive-thru, I sighed.  Three cars in line equaled me being very late to work, and oh, how I hated to be late! Callie couldn’t have said it better.  “Mommy, if these people don’t hurry, we are never going to be able to get our coffee, right?”

Thinking about how late I might be, I said in a monotone, “Yes, honey.”  
“Mommy, maybe you should just crash them out of the way!” 
I looked back and saw that Callie had a serious look on her face.  She meant it!
“Honey, we can’t crash into them. That’s not reasonable!  If we’re just patient, they’ll move soon.”  The funny thing was; I was also thinking how nice it would be to ram my car into the back of the person in front of me who evidently hadn’t decided what they’d order ahead of time, taking an extremely long amount of time in deciding.  Finally, the car moved and it was our turn to order.  Before I could tell the nice woman at the other end of the microphone what I wanted to order, Callie piped up as loud as she could, “Come on, people, move it!”

Our children listen to everything we say!  So I guarantee when you’re cussing someone out under your breath, or telling the people off in the drive-thru line at Starbucks, your children do hear you, and they’ll repeat it.  You can count on it!