School Days

Call me Mother of the Year.

Now that potty training is well in hand, Peanut and I have a new obsession: school. Apparently, my constant discussion has paid off, because all the Wonder Toddler wants is to attack the preschool the way he is currently attacking his trains.

In an effort (futile) to appease Peanut, I told him about Vacation Bible School. Like many churches, ours is at night and there is a special program for preschoolers. Since Grammy is in charge of the preschool class, I thought it would be a good idea to let Peanut get accustomed to the routine preschool will undoubtedly be. Good intentions, but the results are mixed.

Knowing that Grammy raised Boomer, I hold the thought that Peanut wouldn't get away with much in her classroom. This proved to be correct because I can think of at least two occasions where Peanut was vociferously removed from class.

Author's Note: Yes, parents were present at all times.

The mischief wasn't helped in the least by the facts that Peanut's cousin and favorite church cohorts were in his class. Ten preschoolers, their parents, and Grammy. That woman deserves medals. Or alcohol. Maybe both. Peanut held that he should run amok with said cohorts, and Grammy and I spent much time and effort debunking this myth. One night, after multiple warnings, I removed him in favor of bedtime. Another night, I was told it was time to leave. Readers may think this is harsh. It really isn't.

However, VBS has given me a hint as to what preschool may look like. Good thing his teacher has my number; by the end of the year, I'll wager it'll be on speed-dial.

Call me Mother of the Year.