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One Year of Pre-K

 I made several miscalculations while planning my child's school year. Number one: I had him going in on Wednesdays and Fridays. This means, from every Saturday to Tuesday span, he could forget the rigors of education, and get into a different routine, and basically become a non-student.


Then, every Wednesday morning: a nightmare scenario. I have to do THIS again???

My error. Also, I think, twice, I sent Josh to school in shorts whose waistbands were too "generous." When I arrived in the afternoon, the teacher took a deep breath and said, "Joshie's pants fell down." I have worked with children; I can imagine that billowy pants are not something you want on your agenda as you paint, and corral, and unpack, and soothe, and clean. I think the pants scenario is good for a post on the site Am *I* the asshole? And I know the answer. I know it in my heart.

Finally, I erred in thinking my child might have a bad time. Yes, transitions were difficult, but in the afternoon, my son would come home with paper penguins, paper stovepipe hats, flamingos, a bird house, a glitter mosaic, a hand-decorated cup for Passover. I know that school was a joyful place; I know from the videos. There was singing, scavenger-hunting, costuming, crafting, feasting. If you show Josh an image of a classmate on your phone, he lights up. And his patience for books has grown at least a bit over several months.

We're reading "Caps for Sale," "The Legend of Old Befana," "The Cut-Ups," and "In the Night Kitchen." I confess I have no idea what "Night Kitchen" wants to impart, and I'm not sure Sendak was sober when he was writing, but I enjoy the airplane made out of bread dough.

That's all for now.

P.S. Covid was happening, through all of this. But my child's teacher ran a tight ship.
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