All Grown Up

All gussied up - he picked out his own shirt

His Spiderman backpack (the new one hasn't come yet)

Mr. A headed off to his first day of pre-school today. I thought I would lose it if he did but he didn't. We walked into his classroom (he was a little nervous) and said hi to his teachers and then looked at the toys he played with yesterday (at the Open House). I crouched down and told him I was going to leave him there but that I would be right back, that I loved him, and to have fun. I stood up, he reached his arms up to me, I crouched back down, he gave me a hug, and I said, "Bye, buddy! I love you!" And, off I went. I didn't hear any wailing (well, from his mouth, at least) or screaming behind me so I kept walking right on out the front door.

All morning long whenever the phone rang I thought it would be the school calling to tell me he had mis-behaved and I needed to come pick him up. Fortunately that call did not come, but I really did a lot of thinking about what kind of pre-schooler he'll be. Active? Most definitely. Energetic? Check. Obedient? Do they have time-out at pre-school? Chatty? I had a little inkling when, while picking Mr. A up, one of the other kids' dads commented, "He's a talker! We had a nice conversation with him!" Great.

I guess I should have known when, yesterday, at the Open House, the "conversation" went something like this:

Me: Mr. A, this is Miss Jen!

Mr. A (to Miss Jen): My daddy fyes hairpanes (he loses the l and adds an h)

Miss Jen (to me): Does he really?

Me: Yes.

Miss Jen (to Mr. A): Oh wow! Very cool.

Note to self: Must be careful about what we do at home lest it make it into the pre-school storytime.