Tag: preschool

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Anatomy of a Play Date

Giggles erupt from the other room. I smile, loving the sound. Emmy is having a playdate with one of her preschool friends while Lily is at school.

A playdate isn’t necessarily a break for Mommy. I often think it will be, but in this case I am making lunch or bringing out yet another activity. I love how Emmy’s guest exclaims at every “new” toy she sees, “I didn’t know you had THIS!” as though it is the most wonderful toy she has ever played with.

Four year olds have an amazingly short attention span. I stop what I am doing to look for the mate to a sparkly dress-up shoe. I never find it. I can’t find a matching pair of dress-up shoes ANYWHERE. How can this be? My daughters have every single pair of princess dress-up shoes ever made, including Tinker Bell slippers. (I don’t really consider Tinker Bell a princess, but Emmy inform me that Tinker Bell is a fairy princess.) Fortunately, our guest has no problem with wearing a blue Cinderella shoe on her left foot and a yellow Belle shoe on her right.

We stop playing to eat lunch. They are done with their mac ‘n cheese and carrot sticks before I even have a chance to sit down with them.

I change the batteries to a walking dog; I bring out musical instruments for a “princess parade,” and then, after they each scarf down a sprinkle-covered cupcake, we go outside.

I think I will be able to sit on the porch and relax, but I am needed. I put on bike helmets, take off bike helmets, get out scooters, pull a wagon, and bring out bubbles.

A whirl of activity surrounds me. Just as I sit down, they make the request to go back inside to play for the last few minutes of the playdate. I get back up.

I am smiling as I write this post; Emmy’s friend has gone home, and Emmy is resting as she watches Clifford, the Big Red Dog. I think about the future. How long until there are two teenaged girls giggling up in Emmy’s room? How long until the word “playdate” will disappear and “hanging out” will replace it?

I don’t dread those days; they will just be different. But will I long for these four-year-old days again? Maybe. I also like to think I will relish those teenage days ahead just as much as I relish these four-year-old days that will soon be behind me.

Simple BPM
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The Smell of New Crayons

Since I have been neglecting my blog, here is a reprint of a post I wrote last year at this time, when the only family members read my writing.

Emmy’s bedroom window has a front view from our house. As I was rocking her this morning, sunlight filtered through the trees and the air was a lovely 65 degrees. A perfect day. I heard the unmistakable clop CLOP….clop CLOP of a wagon being pulled along the sidewalk. There were no kids in the wagon; it was piled high with backpacks and bags. The kids were skipping ahead of the parents, talking excitedly. It’s the first day of school.

Two photos come to mind. The first, a small girl with blond curls grinning, holding nothing, next to her big sister with a gap-toothed grin, heading off to kindergarten. I was holding a small shoe box full of school supplies. In the next photo, both of us have decorated shoe boxes. My sister has a huge grin, because this time she gets to go to school, too! It was 1976, so there was no preschool in our small town in rural Illinois; no pre-Kindergarten, no playdates, Mommy and me or dance classes. Just run outside and play; that’s what the other moms are telling their kids, too, and come when Mom yells out the door. Scramble down that pine tree you’re not supposed to climb, even though your sappy fingers give you away. Grab your bike and pedal down the gravel alley, and throw it down in the driveway. Use your kickstand!

Those little shoe boxes were so different from the huge bags and backpacks I saw on their way to school today. Was the first day of school more exciting for us? We didn’t have the same experiences of kids today. The first day of Kindergarten literally was the first day of school. Lily starts preschool in September, but she has already attended several park district classes, both with me and without me. I don’t anticipate tears for either of us; she has been eagerly awaiting preschool.

As I watched the kids heading off to school this morning, there was an excitement in the air. I think the first day of school, regardless of past experiences, still is exciting to kids. Parents still grab their cameras to take that shot, and I hope I remember to do the same in a couple of weeks.

I became very nostalgic for that first day this morning. I thought of the teachers in their classrooms, reading through their plans one more time, placing welcome notes on the students’ desks and feeling small butterflies, even if this is your umpteenth year of teaching. That’s how I always felt on the first day of school, even after a decade of being a teacher. Welcoming a brand new set of students is so fun and exciting. I always thought that the first day of school made being a teacher fresh every year.

My first classroom was a corner room with a lot of windows. I would open them wide in the morning, and it felt delicious to have the cool air waft in. The wooden floors creaked with every step I took as I prepared for class. I had real slate blackboards, with a couple of big cracks in the corners, but in otherwise good condition. There were cast iron radiators against the walls which overheated the room in winter, and melted the crayons which fell behind them onto the window sills. That building still stands, but a new school was built in the field to the east, and my old classroom is no longer used for its original purpose.

I love being a stay-at-home mom for now. But some day, that new box of chalk smell will be very welcome, and I hope I will get butterflies in my stomach again as I welcome twenty little classmates into my classroom, on the first day of school.