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| Ben and one of his young loves, Adeline, took a break at the spray park. |
I came into motherhood knowing nothing and everything. One of the things I thought I knew was about our kids’ schooling. They’d go to preschool when they are 3 and 4 years old and then go to kindergarten at the public school down the street.
Cate is finishing up her second year of preschool and getting ready to go to kindergarten. Check. But it’s not to the public school down the street. It’s to a private Christian school on the edge of the neighboring county.
Admittedly, this is one a series of decisions that contradict what I told myself {and others!} I’d never do. Never say never, I know.
And now I have our second-born child who spent a couple weeks earlier this year crying about “my turn school” when we dropped off Cate in her preschool classroom. He also tells people he’s 4 when they ask how old he is. Um, no, son.
But we did decide to enroll him in the preschool’s program for 2 year olds. Right, that’s a whole year earlier than my plan dictated. It’s really a good thing I’m not in control. So, it’s going to be his turn earlier than I expected but at a time that seems good. He’s ready. He’s social. And I’m hoping the structure involving other kids helps him channel some of his boy energy.
Come August, my oldest will be a kindergartener and my boy will have his turn in preschool two mornings a week. It’s definitely going to be a new season around here, and it’ll be one that involves me setting an actual alarm on a regular basis for the first time in five years. The little ones who have been my alarm are growing up. And while they’re cuter and sweeter than the annoying mechanical beep, they are doing what they were made to do.
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