Big Boy School

Today was it. The big day we’ve been waiting for and anticipating—we went to the “big boy school,” otherwise known as the UMCP pre-school , or CYC as is its official name.

The actual event, of course, was less frightening than all these months of anticipation.

We’ve been prepping Ivan for months now. Today was, finally, the big day.
Considering everything, it went rather smoothly.

First, last night I dragged him to Target, although he didn’t want to go, to shop for school supplies. We got an entire list from CYC of supplies to buy—markers, and the like—to bring to school today. They helpfully suggested to take the child along shopping as it could be a great bonding, school-prepping activity. So, off we went last evening—Sunday around 6 p.m., on the eve of the new school year, to Target, which apparently was in the middle of some sort of back-to-school sale.

The school supply area was barren. Big boxes and bins, which at some point earlier in the morning must have been nicely sorted, presented and organized, were raided. It was like entering a Communist grocery store that people just raided for the one and only shipment of coffee. There was nothing left, except many other parents and kids, circling the bins like vultures, rummaging through the sparse and misplaced
remains.

It had never occurred to me that it may not be the brightest idea go school-supply shopping at Target on the eve of the new school year. Andy later asked me, why didn’t I do it earlier. Maybe because I was in denial that this pre-school transition was actually about to take place?

At Target, Ivan was getting irritated, and wanted stuff we didn’t set out to buy. I couldn’t find the items the school asked for. Items like scotch tape (there was none left), or black and white marble notebooks, which I translated to mean those lab notebooks (none left), fine tip and fat tip Crayola markers in an 8-piece set (the ones I found only came in a set of 10, and didn’t really have the descriptions that the teachers put on the To Buy List), glue sticks (check), Elmers glue (check), Friskers scissors (almost didn’t…but check), etc…

In my inability to find these basic school items and the lack of forethought that it may not have been the greatest idea to go shopping for them so late, I became anxious, really anxious. What were those teachers going to think when I couldn’t even purchase these basic items? Were they going to peg me as a bad, unengaged mom? I started doubting myself, as a mother, person, well, really, a competent adult.
Luckily, Ivan didn’t have a meltdown and even got an extra pair of scissors to have at home.

This morning as we packed for pre-school, Ivan refused to take the supplies. “They’re for my house,” he insisted. “They’re for pre-school,” I insisted back.

When Ivan woke up this morning, I continued hyping him for pre-school. Everything seemed fine. We had a run of the mill morning, until he said his knee hurt and he needed a band aid. He fetched a band aid and put it on his knee. I’m not sure where this mysterious knee pain came from. He has fallen a lot lately, including two days ago at Dutch Wonderland, but he hadn’t fallen this morning, nor were his knees bruised, blue-marked or skinned. A few minutes later he took the band aid off, saying his knee no longer hurt.

Before heading to pre-school, we had to swing by the pediatrician’s office to pick up his health forms, which I had dropped off really early (and was very proud of myself for doing so), but never found the time to go and pick them up. (They were only due at CYC a week ago.)

This was around 9:30 a.m. We got in the car. He started yawning. He looked exhausted, as if he didn’t sleep at all. Since he woke up very early this morning, like at 5 a.m., I didn’t think anything of it.

He continued yawning. After the pediatrician’s, we swung back by the house to pick up his newly-purchased boots (a CYC request) which I forgot to pack, and proceeded to Maryland. Ivan continued yawning. He started falling asleep, and I could tell he was doing his best to keep himself away. But at the intersection of RT 198 and Adelphi, he gave in. He fell asleep. It was 10:10 a.m. It was unusual of him to do that.

A few minutes later, we arrived. It was 10:20. The school door hadn’t opened yet. I guess they are very punctual and strict with their rules. They said the doors would open at 10:30. We waited outside. It was hot and sunny. Freshly-awoken Ivan, was hot and cranky. Really cranky. “My tummy hurts,” he said. “I want to go home,” he added. I wasn’t surprised.

At 10:30, we were let in. We found the Green Room. Ivan continued whining that he wanted to go home. I expected it and braced myself for it.

The room was really nice. Well equipped with various play stations, nice cubbies for each child, etc. Ivan continued crying that he wanted to go home. This lasted some 15minutes, or so it seemed. Eventually, he let go, when he saw a bowl of goldfish and water on the table. We sat down to eat. A few other moms and girls joined us. While I made small talk, Ivan ate and ignored the kids. Then he had to go pee, pee. “Pee, pee,” he said. I swiftly ushered him into the bathroom. The bathrooms are kid-size, with low toilets and sinks. Really nice and cute. He did everything himself—took off his clothes, peed, got dressed, washed hands…etc. Then we returned to eat our goldfish. Sometime later, he had to go poopy. So we did. Without a problem. Again, he did everything. He even wiped himself (this was an easy wipe). Later he went to pee again. All in all, I was thrilled that he had to use the bathroom three times, and did it without any big problems.

Back in the classroom, he discovered a sink (kid-height), which had that hose-faucet, like our sink, and a water fountain. He spent most of the remaining time, at the sink and the water fountain. His shirt was completely wet. “I’m cold, mama,” he said several times. I assumed he was cold because of the water.

He eventually explored the rest of the classroom. He looked at the blocks, at the big water table with shells, at the drawing station, etc…

Throughout all this time, Ivan kept yawing. He also looked tired and not-rested. I thought one of the teachers noticed that—well he yawned as I was trying to talk to her—I felt embarrassed. What if they think that I don’t take good care of my child?

Then Andy arrived and Ivan showed him around. At the great room, basically their central hallway, Ivan remembered the music teacher. When we visited the center back in March, there was a music class taking place there. I’m shocked that he remembered it, considering that was six months ago

There are two teachers in the classroom. They introduced themselves and we said hi to them. We didn’t really get to interact with them. One, Cici, seemed personable and nice. The other one, Sara, came across as rather cold. Not necessarily cold, but definitely not warm, bubbly and fuzzy. In our debrief this evening, this was something that both Andy and I separately noted today. Neither one was thrilled with this realization.

We were at CYC for one hour. Then we went to get lunch at the golf course. Ivan kept yawing and saying he was cold, even after we changed his shirt.

The lunch was really nice. We sat outside in the shade, overlooking the golf course. Ivan got cranky and tired. He wanted to sit on me. He felt really hot. He cuddled in my lap and fell asleep. He had never done that before.

When we came home, I took his temperature. 101.1 fever. No wonder he wasn’t feeling well. He's had the fever for the rest of the day and went to bed with it.

So all told, the day went pretty well.

I can’t tell whether he liked CYC or not. This afternoon, he told me that he wants to go back and that he doesn’t want to go back. So I don’t know.

This is supposed to be the transition week—Monday CYC, Tuesday daycare (although now with the fever, he won’t go), Wednesday CYC, Thursday daycare (and goodbye party), Friday CYC.

I told him that on Thursday, we’ll have a goodbye party at daycare. He got excited
at the prospect of a party “for me,” but I’m not sure whether he understands the finality of it.

He did tell me that he’ll have new friends at CYC, but I think he’s just regurgitating what we’ve told him before. I’ve also asked him again who does he play with at daycare, who’s his friend and who’d he like to come over. He didn’t say anything. When I asked about Dylan, he said, yes Dylan. Again, I’m not sure whether he really means that or says what he thinks I want to hear.