A Rock To Tie A String Around

I’m back.

I don’t really have any good excuse for my absence, other than bronchitis, ear infections (not mine – Mr. Adorablepants) salmonella (not me, The Husband) surgery (not me, the kitten) and The Walking Dead (all me, zombie ate my brain).

I the midst of all this, Mr. Adorablepants started preschool. So while I hate the words ‘mommy blogger’ with the fire of a thousand flaming arrows (yes, I also read all three Hunger Games books in my hiatus), I have some thoughts on the subject that need airing.

The biggest problem with preschool is that I have come to realize that it is not aimed at the kids, but rather the parents. Preschool is a training program for parents, so we might be ready to send our kids off to kindergarten. We have to pack lunches, follow school holidays, deal with parent conferences and occasionally make a few dozen cupcakes (or in my case – buy a few dozen cupcakes….).

My son, the venerable Mr. Adorablepants, while being an angel from heaven, can occasionally be a little, um…stubborn. He likes things the way he likes them. He doesn’t like people telling him what he can and cannot do. He doesn’t like rigid schedules or agendas. He doesn’t like to wear shoes. In short, he’s a three-year-old version of me.

Here are a few discussions I have had over the last few months that I anticipate to be having with Mr. Adorablepants’ teachers for the next eighteen years.

1. Your son doesn’t seem interested in the group activities.

No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t really like group activities, neither does his mother or father. We’re a family of lone wolves. Deal with it. I would further add that if he is getting up and wandering away in the middle of your painting demonstration, story, lecture on the letter P, etc…. maybe you need to up your game a bit. Just sayin. I also refuse to believe that this is unique behavior for three year olds. I watch three-four year olds when we’re at the park or wherever preschoolers congregate; they have the attention span of well…a preschooler.

2. You need to have a talk with your son about –fill in the blank whatever incident took place that day-.

Um yeah, so as I’ve stated before, Mr. Adorablepants is three. One day after having bit another kid at school, I tried to follow his teacher’s advice.
Me: ‘Mr. Adorablepants, why did you bite your friend?’

Adorablepants: ‘Dinosaur RAWR!’

Um yeah, so he’s three. It’s pretty even odds that most questions I ask him will have a dinosaur in the answer. In any case, he’s not spilling any secrets to me. I suppose the preschool teacher would have liked the conversation to go like this:

Me: ‘Mr. Adorablepants, why did you bite your friend?’

Adorablepants: ‘Well, I’m feeling really angry, and it was very unjust that he was allowed to take my truck and I was supposed to just share it with him and somehow ignore that fact that he waltzed right up and confiscated my truck, in my face, without so much as a please. In fact, this whole sharing thing is a crock; it’s just legitimized theft. But, you’re right momma, next time I’ll try to use some feeling words and hug it out. Dinosaur RAWR!’

3. You need to talk with your son about kissing the girls and trying to hold their hands.

To be fair, Mr. Adorablepants doesn’t try to kiss all the girls, just a few in particular. I think he inherited his straightforward approach from his father. The other day Mr. Adorablepants walked up to a girl at the park, turned on his smolder and said: “Hey little girl, you’re cute.” It worked too; until he abandoned her on the see saw, trapped up high where she was left only to glower at him.

But okay, I’ll talk to him. I have a feeling how the conversation will go:

Me: “Mr. Adorablepants, you need to stop kissing the girls in your class.”

Adorablepants: “Dinosaur RAWR!”

I have a feeling that this is the best talk we will ever have about this topic. When Mr. Adorablepants becomes a teenager, we’re really in trouble.

Sigh.