Posted by: Hannah | 09/10/2013


Today is the first day of preschool for Louis and Pixie.

For the past two weeks, Louis has been a seething ball of his worst behaviours – defiance, hitting, screaming, not sharing, tattling, whining. Despite begging to go to preschool for months, now that the day was rapidly approaching he decided that acting like a baby was the best way to avoid the unpleasantness of being a big kid altogether.

Yesterday was the worst yet. Poor mite spent a lot of time warming the time-out chair for one infraction after another.

When his mom came to pick him up, he greeted her with a totally indecipherable stream of baby-talk. And the words “no preschool!”

So I was braced for everything up to and including prying him off my leg with a 2×4 and flinging him in through the open door of the classroom. Good luck, have fun, see you at lunchtime!

I was even more nervous when Louis was really, really late getting dropped off this morning. They finally arrived a full half-hour past the usual time. Dad looked tense and Louis’ eyes were red. His face was caked in whatever he had for breakfast and as soon as he climbed out of the car he started doing the dance of I have to go pee but that would be going along with what my parents want, so no way.


 We got the big kids on the bus and came inside. I teased Louis gently about the mess on his face while I cleaned him up. I wiped the dried salty tears off his glasses and made sure he had a few minutes in the bathroom. The whole time, Pixie was chattering non-bloody-stop about school, let’s go to school, I have a bookbag for school, I think I can eat lunch at school, you are leaving me at school ALL ALONE, and so forth.

By the time we were getting ready to leave, Louis was calming down. As he put on his shoes, he gazed up and me and said, very solemnly, “I screamed and yelled for my mom and dad. Reaaaaaly loud. Because I didn’t want to go to preschool”. I asked how he was feeling about it now. “I want to go! Pixie and me will go!”

And that was that. We arrived at the school and hung up his bookbag and sweater. He was a little hesitant when we walked into the room together – Pixie having run on ahead, because she has GOT THIS, people – but he soon drifted over to the sandbox and was starting to play. I said I was heading out and he asked for a big hug; unprecedented. He doesn’t like to hug me, usually. He was trembling a little bit but there were no tears.

Not from him, anyway.

Poor George, upon realizing that he was not going to be staying at preschool, promptly lost his ever-loving mind.

See, last week when we went to orientation, I had to take George and Daisy with me. They had a blast. And now, thank you very much, that is where George would like to be.

I carried him out, screaming NO NO NO NOOOOO MOMMY I GO PWESCHOOL SANDBOX DINOSAURS MOMMY NOOOOOO!!!!!! He actually yelled PUT ME DOWN!! as we were heading out to the parking lot.

Fun times.


This morning has been the most peaceful workday I’ve had in well over a year. Daisy and George are playing nicely; sometimes together, sometimes apart, but always with a steady stream of toddler-chatter that I don’t often get to hear over Pixie and Louis.

I’m drinking my second cup of coffee in peace.

I’m writing a blog post.

I could get used to this.



  1. I always enjoy this blog. The tears, the poo, the oversharing neighbours, etc. But I must say I find a great deal of solace in hearing about the harried state of the parents doing the drop off. Makes me feel less alone;) And why doesn’t anyone talk about the terrible threes!!!! (When two was such a breeze).

    • Aww, thanks. 🙂 Three really is the worst age. WORST. I don’t even have any fear of teenagers because I’ve dealt with so many three year olds, little terrorists that they are.

      And yes, the parents of the three year olds are almost always harried & annoyed at drop off. Definitely not just you.

  2. Louis is funny.

  3. Pixie made me smile – SHE’S GOT THIS. Poor nervous Louis, but I’m sure he’ll do great too! You did a good job warming him up, sounds like.

    Poor George. I remember when Mark was 3 and his preschool had a concert or something, I lost 2 year old Jake. Turns out he had just silently followed the kids back to the carpet, sat down cross legged, and listened to the instructions. No one noticed. When I had to take him out….that was another story!

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