So this whole preschool thing is turning out more complicated than abandoning him on the doorstep, fleeing into the fog and letting his love of playing with other kids wash away the tears.
Yesterday, day two, my plan was to hang out with him through breakfast then amble off, having acclimated him to the environment. Labeling this idea a failure would be generous- he freaked out when we got there, I calmed him down, he played with his food for a bit, then when I got ready to leave he freaked out again. I hadn't accomplished anything but magnifying the trauma.
Upset and depressed I went out looking for books, determined to at least put the time I'd paid such a high price for to constructive use. But books are fickle- coming up dry I ended up back home, alphabetizing the sun room and feeling low.
I left early to pick him up and sait in the parking lot for 15 minutes waiting for the bell.
Entering the classroom he was completely engrossed playing a game with a little girl, oblivious to my presence. I came up behind him and patted his head, but he didn't notice me until another boy said "Look, it's your daddy!"
There's an adjacent playground by the classroom where we took Parent Participation and he wanted to swing and go on those slides, so I carried him over.
"Did you have fun today?" I asked with trepidation.
"Yes." he replied, giving me a few details.
A bit later he said
"Uh, Dada? I hate my new school."
"Why? You said you had fun today."
"Because you left me there."
Said in his robotic affect-less 'serious' voice, while staring a hole through me.
Awesome!
Today's crafty plan was to have the Wife take him and see what happened.
I haven't gotten the details yet, but she came home crying and said "I don't know if this is going to work..." before going back to bed and passing out.
I'm picking him up in 45 minutes, we'll see what he has to say about things.
1 comment:
I have often heard that the third day (or thereabouts) is the worst.
It's so hard. Good wishes for all of you.
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