fuss: back to school 2, Waldorf Boogaloo

Regular readers may recall the floundering collapse of Fuss'  initial sojourn into schooling.
He hated it and we hated it in nearly equal measure.  Dropping him off was an exercise in self-flaggellation, as he wailed and howled and clung like a baby lemur. Picking him up was in some ways worse, as he'd fix you with a reproachful gaze and ask "do I get to leave now?"  It got to the point where if I drove toward that side of town he'd freak out- "Are we going to my new school?  I DON'T WANT TO GO TO MY NEW SCHOOL!" and you'd have to talk him down.

When a bout of flu  knocked him out for a week, they wanted more paperwork and hoop-jumping to readmit him.  Instead we extended the appropriate finger, inviting them to sit and spin.


Back when the Wife was just pregnant and Fuss was still just a future probability she went to one of those Birth and Baby Fair things and met a lady with a dream of opening a Waldorf pre-school in our bucolic  hamlet.  Founded on the philosophy of metaphysical visionary Rudolf Steiner, I'd summarize the basic approach as letting children be children, emphasizing use of the imagination & play over learning important things to get a good job with. They spend class time baking bread and learning to knit, and they make their own soup for lunch.
There's much more to it obviously, but that's my nutshell.

So time passed, the baby was born and became Fuss, we tried a more traditional pre-school and it was a huge failure, and that nice lady the Wife met years ago started her Waldorf inspired pre-school and has expanded it all the way up to second grade.

Ready to try again, the Wife gave her a jingle and set up a home visit.

Those of you who've spent time with him have an understanding of how standoffish Fuss can be.  Not shy, exactly, but reserved and cautious around people with a few notable exceptions (this is where the Wife chimes in "and who does THAT remind you of!").  So it was quite a surprise when Teacher Kim crested the head of the staircase and he ran right up and started chattering like a magpie.

She settled in on the couch while I prepared a mug of tea, and Fuss pulled up his little rocking chair, sat down and started telling her all about whatever was on his mind. I actually had to distract him so she and the Wife could have a chat about school requirements.  When it was time for her to leave, he charged over and gave her a giant hug.

It was quite surreal.

He went to the post office with me on Friday to mail the books, then wanted to take a w
Regular readers may recall the floundering collapse of Fuss'  initial sojourn into schooling.
He hated it and we hated it in nearly equal measure.  Dropping him off was an exercise in self-flaggellation, as he wailed and howled and clung like a baby lemur. Picking him up was in some ways worse, as he'd fix you with a reproachful gaze and ask "do I get to leave now?"  It got to the point where if I drove toward that side of town he'd freak out- "Are we going to my new school?  I DON'T WANT TO GO TO MY NEW SCHOOL!" and you'd have to talk him down.

When a bout of flu  knocked him out for a week, they wanted more paperwork and hoop-jumping to readmit him.  Instead we extended the appropriate finger, inviting them to sit and spin.


Back when the Wife was just pregnant and Fuss was still just a future probability she went to one of those Birth and Baby Fair things and met a lady with a dream of opening a Waldorf pre-school in our bucolic  hamlet.  Founded on the philosophy of metaphysical visionary Rudolf Steiner, I'd summarize the basic approach as letting children be children, emphasizing use of the imagination & play over learning important things to get a good job with. They spend class time baking bread and learning to knit, and they make their own soup for lunch.
There's much more to it obviously, but that's my nutshell.  

So time passed, the baby was born and became Fuss, we tried a more traditional pre-school and it was a huge failure, and that nice lady the Wife met years ago started her Waldorf inspired pre-school and has expanded it all the way up to second grade.

Ready to try again, the Wife gave her a jingle and set up a home visit.

Those of you who've spent time with him have an understanding of how standoffish Fuss can be.  Not shy, exactly, but reserved and cautious around people with a few notable exceptions (this is where the Wife chimes in "and who does THAT remind you of!").  So it was quite a surprise when Teacher Kim crested the head of the staircase and he ran right up and started chattering like a magpie.

She settled in on the couch while I prepared a mug of tea, and Fuss pulled up his little rocking chair, sat down and started telling her all about whatever was on his mind. I actually had to distract him so she and the Wife could have a chat about school requirements.  When it was time for her to leave, he charged over and gave her a giant hug.

It was quite surreal.

He went to the post office with me on Friday to mail the books, then wanted to take a walk.
Crafty beggar that he is, I didn't figure out he really just wanted to go to the school until we were halfway there.  We played on the structure for a while, and he spotted Teacher Kim and ran over to say hi.  Last night he was excitedly telling Uncle Timmy all about how he was going to school tomorrow.

So this morning, things were sort of back to normal.  He begged, he bargained, he pleaded.
"THIS isn't the day I go to school, that's on SATURDAY!"  He wouldn't eat, didn't want to get dressed, wanted me to watch him do various things, wanted to watch a show, wouldn't put his shoes on, etc.  Finally got him ready, took a picture of his back, adorned with a super darling monkey backpack as he's developed an allergy to photos lately.  I sent him off with Mama, who was empowered to stay as long as necessary, finished packing books and took off for work.


The Wife called about half an hour after I opened.
"Uh oh, that wasn't very long...." was the first thing that crossed my mind.

"What happened?" I asked tersely.
"Well, we went, he played outside with the kids for a while, then when they went inside I said 'okay, mama's going home now'."
"And?"
"And he said "okay!" and went inside."


Whew!
So far so good.