Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Preschool and Other Trauma


We seem to have survived the transition into preschool. The first month was traumatic. Abel would cry and cling to me when I tried to leave him at school. So after the first week or so, Chris took over the drop-offs. That worked better. And just as everyone said, by the end of the first month Abel had decided that he loved school. Now every morning he asks me if it’s a school day, and if it isn’t, he’s disappointed.

Next hurdle: potty training. (We’re already in Month Nine of that). Stay tuned.

In the meantime, some short subjects.

THE AMBULANCE:

In the car last month, Abel and I saw an ambulance drive by, lights flashing.


Abel: (deadpan). “Somebody died.”

Mom: (Silent -- How do you even respond to that?)

We’ve now had this same conversation several times. I try to explain that going to the hospital doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re dying or dead. I think he’s finally starting to believe me.

THE HOT WATER BOTTLE:

Generally administered in our house for stomach aches.

Abel: “Can I have a hot water bottle?”

Mom: ‘Yes.”

Abel: “Because my feelings are hurt.”

CHOCOLATE MILK:

Only served as a special treat, and only after lunch, or otherwise before 3 PM.

Abel: “I want chocolate milk.”

Mom: “I’m sorry, you can’t have chocolate milk at this time of day. Would you like vanilla soy instead?”

Abel: “No. Chocolate milk is medicine. I’m not feeling well. I need medicine.”

SANTA:

Abel: “I don’t want anything for Christmas.”

Mom: “Why not?

Abel: “I don’t want Santa to watch me because sometimes I’m fresh.”

Mom: “But most of the time you’re a good boy.”

Abel: “Okay, I want Dodge and Splatter (two obscure trains from Thomas & Friends). But nothing else.