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Let's Panic: The Book!

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How to Endure and Possibly Triumph Over the Adorable Tyrant
who Will Ruin Your Body, Destroy Your Life, Liquefy Your Brain,
and Finally Turn You
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Written by Alice Bradley and Eden Kennedy

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Wednesday
Sep282005

I have separation anxiety.

Henry started preschool last week, and it’s been a tough transition.

Not for him. For me.

We’re still in “phase-in” mode--the classes are only half the size and half the length, and the parents are in the next room enjoying bad cake and insanely bad coffee while the children warm up to the idea of school. For the first couple of days, I sat there chatting with the other parents while one kid after another was escorted into the room for a few minutes of reassurance from his or her parent. I dreaded the moment when Henry emerged, weeping, from his classroom.

Then I waited.

Then I was wondered why they were keeping him in there.

When he probably needed me.

Time passed. I couldn’t hear any crying. I had already been admonished by the teacher for entering the classroom, so I held off. I wasn’t happy about it.

“What do you think they’re doing in there?” I asked one of the parents, who looked at me like, what do you think they’re doing? Getting facial tattoos? Being forced to consume the still-quivering brains of a dying rhesus monkey?

The faint strains of “The Wheels on the Bus” could be heard from their room. “I’ll just bet they’re singing,” she said slowly, patting me on the arm. If I had at that moment opened my mouth and drooled coffee cake all over my chin, I don’t think it would have surprised her one bit.



One of the parents had to enter the classroom to deal with her heartbroken child, who apparently loves her mother more than my son loves me. She came back to tell me, “I heard your son telling two girls that he’s a ‘puzzle master’?”



“That’s my boy,” I said.

“It’s great that he’s doing so well in there,” she said.

“Yes,” I agreed, choking down more coffee cake.

By the third day the teacher told me I didn’t have to stick around the school. “He’s doing so well,” she said. “We’ll call you if there’s a problem.”

The school is two blocks from my home. I could have gone there. But I was sure there was going to be a problem—I was so sure! So I went to the library and tried to look at books and wondered why my stomach hurt. I checked my cell phone 27 times or so. It seemed to be working, but it never rang, so I worried. And returned to the school.

“I just can’t get enough of this cake!” I said to the two puzzled babysitters in the room with me.

When he finally came out he seemed so happy that I was of course suspicious. “How’d he do?” I asked the teacher. My eyes pleaded for a full and detailed report of his every move and thought, but she was deftly avoiding eye contact. “He was great!” she said. “See you next time, Henry!”

“Did you have fun?” I asked him, “What did you do? Did you make friends? TELL ME EVERYTHING.”

And he said, “They called Malcolm a rubber boy and he was bouncing and Lizzie said you’re a rubber boy and he was bounced and then the little bear went up into the cave and had a nap without the big bear.”

“Wha--?” I said.

“I want lunch,” he concluded.

Tomorrow he’s going back, and I might go home, maybe. But I’ll have on my running shoes, you know, just in case.

 

 

Reader Comments (40)

What's with this half-day crap? My preschool was for a full day (sure, only 2 days a week) and it wasn't until I was in kindergarten that I had 1/2 days.

Kids these days. They have it so easy.

Enough of that, I want to know - are there metal detectors at the entrances?
September 28, 2005 | Unregistered Commentermathew
I feel your pain. I was always the mother screeching at the preschooler who was running full-tilt INTO the classroom to please come back and just give me a KISS; meanwhile I was surrounded by mothers whose children actually liked them, and therefore clung to their legs and wept. *sigh*
September 28, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterMir
Yeah, mine never looked back, never asked for me. I am, apparently, chopped liver.
September 28, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterJenny
You ever see Flubber?

That's my son.

Okay, that's both of my sons. None of this rubber stuff.

We wear running shoes, too. :)
September 28, 2005 | Unregistered Commenterben
As I knew I would be returning to work full time after a years maternity leave (as heart wrenching as that decision was), I began "phasing in" daycare for my little one when she was just over 8 mths. At that age you'd think she's be absolutely devastated when her one and only mamma left her. You'd think, wouldn't you? 'fraid not! She has had an absolute ball every single time she has been there. The first day I left her, however, I bawled my eyes out the whole drive home and rang on the hour, every hour to make sure she was ok. But I ended up making it through. Now I'm just down to a general nervous feeling and one phone call! Course I can't say enough good things about the girls at her centre and I know that having wonderful people to leave my baby with has made all the difference. I actually think she gets more cuddles and "spoiling" there than she does with us!!
September 28, 2005 | Unregistered Commenterskape7
I'm always positive my cell phone has silently and spontaneoulsy broken whenever I'm away from my kids. I'll call my husband to make sure it still works, and then panic because they might have called when I was dialing! Should I call and make sure they didn't try to call? Should I just go get them? Should I just give up completely and duck tape them to my head so that they'll never be out of sight?
September 28, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterEulallia
Yeah sure.Pre-school.Just wait till he gets an apartment, that's only 11 miles away, and you send a thousand dollars worth of groceries, and give him all your lamps, and send him funny postcards andcall him all the time, and...and...and.

September 28, 2005 | Unregistered Commenterblackbird
I, heartbreakingly, had to put my first daughter in day care when she was 6 weeks because I needed to work. I know, it chokes me up thinking about it 10 years later. You don't even want to know what I was like the first day I dropped her off -- blubbering, boobs leaking, gnashing of teeth. . .messy.

ANYWAY, I would call the day care and say, "Is Maya there?" They'd say, "Of course (weirdo)." "Can I talk to her?" "She's fine, Mrs. Rivera." "Ok, tell her I called." "We will." When I'd picked up Maya I'd whisper to her, "Did you get my message?"

I did this every single day.
September 28, 2005 | Unregistered Commentermadness
I have a hard time accepting the fact My Child Has A Life Outside of ME. How can he have friends I have no clue about? And while I sometimes feel heartbroken that Max will run off immediately and start playing, without me, I also know this is just bloody fantastic for him.Now I secretly wait for the phone call to tell me he's sick so I can leave early and pick him up, and be a Real Mother.
September 28, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterAlison
My kids are like that. I would take them in and hang out a few minutes to make sure all was okay. When I finally decided to leave, I walked over to give a goodbye kiss and got the look that says, "What? You're still here?"
September 28, 2005 | Unregistered Commenterbuffi
I won't begin to try and assess the bond between a child and the mother who bore him, but I've seen kids who can't separate from their parents at preschool, and it ain't pretty.

There's a blessing to be counted in there somewhere.
September 28, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterLOD
I love that phasing in idea. Our preschool, they expected you to just drop off and run. Cold turkey. To just sit in the parking lot and weep and assume your kid was in there wailing, scratching at the walls trying to get to you. I think its nice to know.

September 28, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterEm
What Mir said, that was me too. Although when my youngest got to full-day kindergarten, it was about a month before he could handle me just dropping him off and leaving. One day he looked at me with tear-filled eyes and said " I just don't know if I can do this without you". That pretty much made up for the years of preschool and Sunday School when he barely noticed I was gone!
September 28, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterElizabeth
We started this week too and everyone I know was shocked when I told them I actually went home instead of sitting in the parking lot with binoculors.
September 28, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterErin
Once my youngest got over the ignonimity of having to go to preschool in the family van, instead of the school bus he'd hoped for, he was insultingly casual about separating from me. I had to chase him down on the playground to kiss him goodbye last Thursday. He stopped pouring sand long enough to look at me with complete exasperation and say, "What are you still DOING here?!?"

I know it's o.k. and a good thing, but I secretly feel that he could spare me a few tears.
September 28, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterRuth
Details, details, details! Why are they so stingy when we pick them up? Trying to pry lunch menus, play activities and potential playdates out of a 4yo is totally hopeless. When are they going to provide live video feed for all the mothers that feel the way we do?
September 28, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterCori
the boy's first pre-school had one-way glass installed in the door, so that parents could watch the kids without the kids being aware. this was very helpful when for example i dropped him off and there was the wailing at the door, but once the door closed the tears were dry and he was happily playing.

i'm glad henry is adjusting so well, on both sides of the door.
September 28, 2005 | Unregistered Commenteranne
My son was the complete opposite...still is 3 weeks later. He weeps miserably for the 1.5 hours I leave him at the school. The phase-in sounds wonderful...he really could have used that, instead we got the cold turkey version. I'm still hoping he adjusts, but we are prepared to pull him out soon if the weeping doesn't stop. Enjoy your free time!!!
September 29, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterCathy
I feel your pain. I am having a horrible time with kindergarten. Last year in preschool I got to hear from the teacher everyday what they did, who was good or bad, what my son had to say, etc. Now I put him on the bus at 8 am and he comes home at 4 pm. I ask how his day went and he shrugs at me and asks for a snack. You don't know how badly I want to call the teacher and ask how he is doing. Maybe I can plant a camera in his classroom or send a voice recorder in his back pack?!
September 29, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterJuJuBee
Hee! I remember my first day of kindergarten. All the other kids cried in the morning when their moms dropped them off. I cried in the afternoon when my mom came to pick me up.

I had one of each - one child who loved me and wanted me to stay with her, and one who didn't know who I was as soon as we entered the school building.
September 29, 2005 | Unregistered Commentermaurinsky
CLEVER idea, using the kid as an excuse to hang out for the free coffee cake.....Hey, I LOVE coffee cake, so I don't blame you. :-)

Will file this information away for future use with my own progeny forthcoming.....pick preschool with yummy goodies......
September 29, 2005 | Unregistered Commentercagey
This is obvious, but you know you've done a good job parenting when your kid is confident on his own. It's the parents who actually communicate their need to be needed in a way that makes the kid cling who have a problem.
September 29, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterLeah
My second child was fine for the first couple of weeks, He was the prince of easy transition. Then one day after I dropped him off I got a haircut while he was in school and he suddenly realized that I was leaving the building. After that I would occasionally stop by and wave to him during the day, because I had to convince him that I was wandering around school each day just waiting for him to finish. 5 years later that sounds pretty desperate.

My advice: No haircuts while Henry is in school.
September 29, 2005 | Unregistered Commenterclickmom
Glad he's doing well, it is a big adjustment for everyone.
September 29, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterBusy Mom
That is too funny clickmom
September 29, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterRayne of Terror

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