Today Owen and Will and I all started pre-school again. And I traded in our lax summer schedule, with lazy mornings in pajamas and no agendas, for the opportunity to spend a few mornings a week with an extended family of 13 3-year-olds. It was a good trade. I’m truly looking forward to work tomorrow and for the rest of the year.
Will, who, with his August 31 birthday, will be repeating pre-k this year, seems very happy in that role. Today he announced that he’d had “the most fun I’ve ever had in pre-school.” (He quickly acknowledged that it was equally “most fun” on the first day last year.)
Owen, meanwhile is dealing with separation anxiety from Will more than from me. His big brother has been a constant playmate throughout the summer, and during the couple days they spent in nursery/day care while I was prepping for the return of students last week, the nursery workers opted to keep Will with them rather than listen to Owen’s constant tears when his big brother left to go down the hall with the big kids. Luckily for Will, who was soon bored out of his mind, we brokered an arrangement whereby Owen got to join the big kids if he stayed quiet and manageable. On Saturday Owen told me, “Actually I big kid.” Then he added, “Will big kid. Daddy big kid. Mommy big kid.” Kind of makes you wonder who’s supposed to run this show.
(I did, of course, let Owen know that his big kid status doesn’t match Will’s yet. Today, with his permanent teachers, ready to welcome him – tears and all – into their classroom, Owen had a brief body-shaking meltdown when I left him and then he settled into life with his fellow-2-year-olds quite nicely. It should be a good year for all.)