A while back I had to find a place for Mountain Child to go for a few hours while I went to work. Normally, my mother-in-law keeps Mountain Child on the two afternoons a week that I go. But she decided on a whim to go out of town, and I had three days to find a place for Mountain Child. Yes. I should have already thought of that detail and had a plan B. Yes. Mountain Child should probably be going to preschool anyway. And yes. I have had plenty of time up to this point to figure all this out.
Which, by the way, I am really confused about this whole preschool issue. There are such divergent views on the whole thing. Some say get into preschool as soon as possible. Get them into some structure and on the right track for academic readiness. Where you pick to go to preschool sets the stage for their whole academic lives. Others say that they don’t need preschool really at all. And I constantly waver back and forth between those two extremes and whatever is in between. Part of me is unwilling to send her off to preschool since I did move across the Eastern Seaboard just to stay home with her. Illogical, I know. But can’t I just hold on to my naïve ideas just for a little while?
I do not want to give you a complete recap of my harrowing stint with the Preschool We Shall Not Name. But I will share with you some lessons learned through it. Perhaps you can use my bits of wisdom. Or maybe you can just make fun of me because, honestly, didn’t everyone know that already?
Rule #1: And this is the most important rule to remember. Do not go with the first preschool that you visit. Even if you really, really like it—which incidentally, I really, really didn’t like the one that I sent Mountain Child to for those four hours. But I had a lot going on: working an extra day that week, strategizing how to properly transport 50 crab cakes to my catering client’s destination without risk of botulism, caring for Mountain Child in some legitimate way, and general family upkeep. Oh, and maybe I did go and work out a couple of extra times that week. And go and get my nails done, perhaps a lunch date or two. But still. Important stuff. Plus it rained a lot that week, and you know how that really makes things a pain.
Rule #2: Do not assume because you have a _____ degree in ____ that you somehow will know anything about the Preschool System. Or that anyone you encounter in said system even cares. I mistakenly assumed that since I used to be in education nearly ten years with a Master’s degree in Education that I was a) someone to be respected, b) immune to all of the horrors of being ignorant about how to choose a preschool, and c) I would at least be a little more self-assured and armed with Useful Knowledge. It turns out that the answer is actually d) you just make yourself look like more of an ass. I learned this unfortunate fact when I decided that, after only about four hours of her attending there, I wasn’t happy with how things were going at Mountain Child’s school. I decided to do what any intelligent yet affable parent would do: I called a meeting with the head of the school. However, when I tried to casually mention my obviously superior experience in the education realm, she gave me an annoyed look and said, “Right.” Oh, dear. I have become the very annoying parent that give educational professionals heartburn.
Rule #3: Avoid any place that has Chocolate Milk Fridays.
“Chocolate Milk Fridays?” I ask incredulously.
“Oh, yes. We treat Fridays as a special day since it is right before the weekend. We try to give them a little treat that day.”
“But what if I don’t want her to have Chocolate Milk Fridays?”
“Why wouldn’t she want it?”
“Well, she would, but I don’t. She has never had chocolate milk before.”
The lady is now looking at me as if I just told her that I lock my child in a closet with spiders while I go out on the streets to support my crack habit. Or maybe she is looking at me with total amazement and admiration. You know, those two looks are eerily close.
Perhaps I am being too self-righteous. It is just that I have heard horror story after horror story about kids refusing all other milk products unless it is chocolate once the Chocolate Milk Bubble is broken. Once your kid even sees chocolate milk, it’s all over. Besides, what do kids that age know about Fridays? Every day is the weekend for them. Right, I know. I am living in a dream world. But just let me be.
Rule #4: You really do get what you pay for.
Rule #5: If you are able to wander all around the preschool, peeking in classrooms and talking to random children completely unchecked, it isn’t a great idea to have your kid attend there. My husband goes to pick up Mountain Child on her first day of school. He, of course, didn’t know where to go. So he just meanders around, checking out the artwork in the classrooms and tries to see if he can find Mountain Child. No one asks him what in the world he is doing. And when he finds Mountain Child, he collects her things and takes her home. And no one knew who he was. Just thinking about that sends really horrible You-Are-A-Really-Bad-Mommy Shivers down my spine.
Rule #6: If “naptime” involves a large-screen television playing a really loud cartoon movie, know your child probably isn’t going to sleep very well. And you will be no more painfully aware of this fact as when you are trying to do anything of any importance, for example, crossing a street or getting a cartful of groceries to your car.
After digesting all of the reasons that I shouldn’t have taken her to this place and knowing that I did anyway, I vowed to myself that the next place that I take the Mountain Child will be done correctly. And with my really important lessons learned, I am pretty sure I at least will be a bit more equipped. By the way, when I asked the Mountain Child how her day went at the Preschool We Shall Not Name, she said,
“I GOT BROWN MILK”
“Brown milk? Was it good?”
“YES!!! WANT BROWN MILK! PLEASE?”
It was a Tuesday when she told me this. So I did what any caring mother with a strong sense of values would do. I said, “There’s isn’t any more brown milk. All the kids at that school drank it all up and there won’t ever be any more. Isn’t that sad?” She seemed to understand. The Chocolate Milk Bubble is still in tact for now.
