Preschool Sass 101

ella aug2015

It appears my posts are becoming few and far between these days.  I guess that is what happens throughout the summer and when you become a mom of a “school age” child.  Now that preschool has finally started for my 3 year old little sass and the emotional storm of tears has past, I feel like I can finally talk about it without completely breaking down.

I recently read an article about how your child’s milestones are both moments to be celebrated and yet they are also heartbreaking at the same time.  That article basically my life in a nutshell.  I absolutely love watching our little sass grow up and experiencing all of the big milestones with her.  The older she gets, the more hilarious she becomes also, but it is also incredibly heartbreaking to know that she won’t always need me for everything.  When she takes a dump on the toilet she straight up turns into something out of a horror movie until I leave the bathroom to give her privacy.  It is seriously something comparable to an exorcism.  And while I am very thankful that my kid takes a shit on the toilet, it is also heartbreaking that she doesn’t think she needs me anymore to be in attendance during her poops (never thought I would say that one).

We are going on week 3 of school and I would be lying if I didn’t say I get a little heartbroken when I drop her off.  First let me clear this up, she goes 2 days a week for 2 hours and 45 minutes.  A completely reasonable human being would admit that it really isn’t that much time to be away from your 3 year old, but hell I look forward to picking her up.  I went 3 years without using the toilet by myself (ironic isn’t it that she demands to be alone while in there and yet she stares at me every time I go into the bathroom) so now I can’t help but get a little performance anxiety when it’s just me.  All alone.  Not rushing.  Not having someone else insist on flushing the toilet for me.  I hang out by myself doing work for 2 and half hours drinking way too much coffee so by the time I go pick her up I am an overly caffeinated, anxious, sweaty mess.

On top of being away from her for almost 6 hours a week, I really have been struggling with not having a damn clue as to what the hell she is doing for that time period (very dramatic of me I know- #controlfreak).  Granted her amazing teacher takes the time to send out a daily email to the class parents each day, but last week I asked her what she had for snack and she told me “sticks.”  You mean to tell me that I pay actual money to send my kid to hang out with other 3 year olds and eat sticks for almost 3 hours?  (After much prying and questioning I came to the conclusion that she had pretzels-not actual sticks).

I am oh so looking forward to all of the artsy projects coming home, but it appears my little sass has also gotten a lot sassier since attending preschool.  So until her finger paints and artsy masterpieces come home, she just comes home with a little attitude and talks about butts and boogers.  The first week of school she ran past me and pulled my sweatpants down and smacked my ass then told me “I touched mommy’s butt”.  So either she has recently acquired her father’s same obsession with my ass (very slim chance) or she has officially been in contact with other influential kids who are turning my little blondie baby into a butt touchin, fart laughin, booger pickin turd.

Sass seems to be going the drama free route at school and hangin with mostly boys at school.  It will be a little while before her daddy has to clean a shot gun on the kitchen table to scare these boys off, but I can only assume she has been learning her butt and booger vocabulary from them.  Boys will be boys.  I think I may prefer her hangin with the boys for now, because when she does play with the little girls, they seem to only play “babies” from what she has shared with me. She must be voted “the sister”  every time because she has rambled off 100 times in 3 weeks that she is a sister and unless she knows something I don’t she isn’t a sister. (No no fellow classroom parents that is not a bump, that is too much Mexican for lunch, this girl loves her Chipotle).

So with this milestone of Preschool upon us, I will cherish the lovely songs, artwork, and fart and poop stories that are to come home over the next few years.  Try to enjoy my time alone and get used to using the toilet by myself.  And squeeze the shit outta my little sass when I pick her up those two days a week.

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