As kids head off to school this fall, and first day of school photos are taken, and first day of school scrapbook pages are planned and executed, Andrew and I are having our own first day of school.
It was yesterday actually.
I half-heartedly looked into sending him to preschool this fall. It was either the cost of tuition (we’ve rented apartments for cheaper than a month of preschool) or the fight to get a spot (we have friends that lined up on registration day at 5:00 in the morning) or knowing too much about early childhood education (and how the preschools we would pay a lot for and fight to get into would be okay), but something scared me off. No formal preschool for Andrew. Not this year at least.
In it’s place: Mommy School.
We started yesterday. We talked a little about the calendar, I had a letter I had to written to him for us to read and work with (Dear Andrew, I love you. Love, Mommy) and we read Brown Bear, Brown Bear and talked about colors. I thought it would take an hour. It took 20 minutes.
What struck me yesterday was how very ‘first day of school’ it felt. I’ve had 5 ‘first days of schools’ as a teacher and they have all felt quite similar. I’m feeling things out. I’m nervous. Some things feel forced. And nothing takes as long as I think it will. I couldn’t believe that those feelings came rushing back in my own home. With my own son.
Today was much, much better. We ‘worked’ together for about 40 minutes and it felt more natural and more fun. I really, really like sitting down with Andrew, at a table, with paper and pencils, and seeing what he knows. And what he doesn’t.
I’m looking forward to seeing where this goes and what unfolds. For both of us really. And don’t you worry: I’ll keep you posted along the way. ;)