Day 12: What Not To ExpectPhotobucket - Video and Image Hosting

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Putting that Backfield in Motion since 2003

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Wonderful Amen

I had Tuesday off of work because the husband needed to pick up a friend at the Charlotte airport and I didn’t think it would be fair to the kids to be dragged 250 miles round trip and spend time in an airport. Besides, the last time I left the husband alone with the kids when he was distracted by a friend, I came home to find Grace locked in a bathroom, screaming her head off while playing in the toilet. Lloyd told me he thought she sounded muffled but he figured she was just playing in the other room. Right. Because we all know that muffled screaming indicates safe play in the living room. I can only imagine that if he had brought the kids to the airport, at least one of them would have ended up on a flight to Yemen. I refuse to comment on whether that would be a good or bad thing.

Since I was home with the kids, I got to take the Gavinator to preschool. He really seems to be enjoying it. Or at least he really enjoys being given the chance to wear his backpack and go somewhere. I can get the kid to do practically anything if I use the tag “… and I’ll let you wear your backpack.”

It’s win-win for both of us because I love seeing him with his backpack on. It is entirely too big for him- never mind the fact it sports a picture of Spiderman on it and Gavin has no idea who Spiderman is (hint- one of Gavin’s parents who isn’t me was given the task of purchasing the boy’s first backpack)- and it stretches from his head to the back of his kneecaps. The boy doesn’t seem to mind the large size. He even gets this jaunty little walk when he wears it. All his movements seem deliberate and meant to draw attention to the backpack (because a giant red backpack isn’t attention-grabbing enough). It’s almost as if with every bounce he is all “What’s this? You mean this? Oh you silly little child, you. This here is a backpack. This is what big boys wear when they go to school. That’s right. You heard me. School. I’m in school. Booyah.”

The funniest, though, was his first day of school when he had to bring all of his school supplies and it weighed his backpack down. He would take three jaunty steps forward only to stumble backwards 4 steps because of the weight on his back. He looked like a little crab side-walking into school. He would scurry to one side and then scurry to the other only to shift the weight on his back and scurry back to the other side.

On Tuesday I got Gavin to school a little early- being an amateur at this whole taking the kid to school bit- and chatted with the other moms waiting for the door to open. I’m always interested in checking out and sizing up other moms who are going through the same ages and stages with their kids as I am going through with mine. I know that dropping my kid off at school once every blue moon is not going to be enough to forge relationships with these women but I like to take every opportunity to be friendly and get to know them a little. Three other kids are in my neighborhood are also going to Gavin’s preschool- one is in Gavin’s class on Wednesdays- and I always make an effort to talk to them when I see them in the neighborhood.

While I’m interested in getting to know these other mothers; the other mothers? Not so much. Or at least that is how I perceive it. Moms get a bad rap with all the mommy wars and cat fights and “my kid is better than your kid... oooooh snaps” so I try to remember that these aren’t just moms- these are individual women- and for all I know they were up late with a screaming newborn or stressing over money or fighting with their husband or juggling career, motherhood, and everything in between and they just aren’t in the mood to chat with Susie Q. Sunshine who they see all of never.

Still, I can’t help but think it has to do with how cool I am, how hot my husband is, and how awesome and adorable my kids are. I mean. I’m just saying.

Seriously, though, Gavin loves preschool. He marches right in there and goes straight for his room without looking back. I have to force him to hug me goodbye as he and his ultra cool backpack are so over me from the moment he gets inside the classroom.

I asked his teacher how Gavin was doing and she told me he was doing “wonderfully”.

“No, really. Give it to me straight. I’ve been on Zoloft for 14 months straight now and I’m still a little bit drunk from last night. You can tell me the truth. I can handle it. How is Gavin doing?”

“Really, he is doing wonderfully.”

So that’s it. The boy is doing “wonderfully”. He even has a little friend named John David and at home last night he was yelling “John Davey, John Davey, John Davey!” over and over again. Also, since he is in a church-based preschool, I am assuming they do prayer and read from the Bible because every time Gavin closes a book or his little Barney laptop, he says a solemn “Amen”.

Gavin is doing wonderfully in preschool. Now that is a statement worthy of an “Amen” if I have ever heard one.


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Blogger karrie said...

I knew you were a weird mother at heart! ;)

Glad Gavin is enjoying school. The backpack visual is hilarious.

I was similarly stunned when I picked up Max from nursery school on Tuesday, expecting all kinds of crazy stories, and was told "He was great." Fingers crossed that he's behaving himself this morning too.

11:22 AM  

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