Connor,
Today went well. Very well. At least that is what Erika, one of your teachers, said.
The morning started off slow because you didn't want to eat your breakfast nor did you want to put on those awful things called "shoes". Once Dennis had them on your feet, you attempted to walk around (looking like you just finished riding a horse) and kept picking up your feet as if you had stepped in glue or gum or something. You were not very happy to have shoes on your feet this morning as we left the house, but you seemed to at least manage to walk in a some-what normal fashion by the time we arrived at your school.
We went in to your school and you seemed to sort-of recognize the place (which you should, because we've gone by there at least 5 times in an attempt to get you acclimated to the new surroundings). Then, I saw one of your classmates, Daniel, and everything seemed like it would be OK. I knew instantly (call it motherly ESP or whatever you want to call it) that the two of you would be friends because you had something very important in common: a mutual dislike of shoes. He had a sock and shoe on his right foot and his left shoe and left sock were thrown randomly across the room.
You didn't cry when we left because you were too busy gazing at yourself in the mirror and following Daniel as he walked around the room.
When we picked you up, Miss Erika said that you had a wonderful day.
"Really? I mean, he did well and took a nap and everything for you?"
She smiled and said, "Well, he didn't really take a nap. At all. We finally got all of the kids to lay down on their mats or in their cribs and had the lights off... but Connor kept running around. He would lay down for a minute and then jump back up and pull Daniel's hair. Then he reached his arm through Sydney's crib and pulled her hair, too. He was the 'King' of the classroom, for sure."
"And...you said he had a 'good' day? I mean, isn't that 'bad' that he did that? I am sorry."
"Oh, don't worry about it. He was very funny with (insert other new kids' name here). He would go up to him, pull out his pacifier, and walk away with it. Then, when (insert the name you chose a second ago here) started to cry, Connor would go back over to him and put his pacifier back in his mouth."
I was trying to think of how any of this could be construed as 'good' behavior. "So, you mean, at least he was 'good' and didn't put the pacifier in his own mouth?" Ah-hah. I finally caught on.
Today went well. Very well. At least that is what Erika, one of your teachers, said.
The morning started off slow because you didn't want to eat your breakfast nor did you want to put on those awful things called "shoes". Once Dennis had them on your feet, you attempted to walk around (looking like you just finished riding a horse) and kept picking up your feet as if you had stepped in glue or gum or something. You were not very happy to have shoes on your feet this morning as we left the house, but you seemed to at least manage to walk in a some-what normal fashion by the time we arrived at your school.
We went in to your school and you seemed to sort-of recognize the place (which you should, because we've gone by there at least 5 times in an attempt to get you acclimated to the new surroundings). Then, I saw one of your classmates, Daniel, and everything seemed like it would be OK. I knew instantly (call it motherly ESP or whatever you want to call it) that the two of you would be friends because you had something very important in common: a mutual dislike of shoes. He had a sock and shoe on his right foot and his left shoe and left sock were thrown randomly across the room.
You didn't cry when we left because you were too busy gazing at yourself in the mirror and following Daniel as he walked around the room.
When we picked you up, Miss Erika said that you had a wonderful day.
"Really? I mean, he did well and took a nap and everything for you?"
She smiled and said, "Well, he didn't really take a nap. At all. We finally got all of the kids to lay down on their mats or in their cribs and had the lights off... but Connor kept running around. He would lay down for a minute and then jump back up and pull Daniel's hair. Then he reached his arm through Sydney's crib and pulled her hair, too. He was the 'King' of the classroom, for sure."
"And...you said he had a 'good' day? I mean, isn't that 'bad' that he did that? I am sorry."
"Oh, don't worry about it. He was very funny with (insert other new kids' name here). He would go up to him, pull out his pacifier, and walk away with it. Then, when (insert the name you chose a second ago here) started to cry, Connor would go back over to him and put his pacifier back in his mouth."
I was trying to think of how any of this could be construed as 'good' behavior. "So, you mean, at least he was 'good' and didn't put the pacifier in his own mouth?" Ah-hah. I finally caught on.
'Good' is in the eye of the beholder. No matter what you did - or didn't do - you were going to get a positive report card for the day.
I'm glad that you did well but what matters most to me is that you really seemed to have fun today. Thank you for putting my mind at ease knowing that you are going to enjoy your new school and that I don't need to worry about you. Well, at least I don't need to worry about you EVERY SINGLE SECOND while you are at school. Every other second should suffice.
I love you.
Mom
2 comments:
Shelby starts "school" next Monday and I am crossing my fingers she's too young to know what's going on!
adorable!!!!
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