Today was a kindy day. Yes that's right two hours of parental torture in the guise of socializing an already very social child in an attempt to never hear her say, "but I have no friends" ever again! The day she said to me that very quietly on our way back from town four weeks ago nearly did me in.
What sort of monster was I? My three year old was forced to play with imaginary friends... and quite frankly they were getting out of control. Especially one called, Purple... that friend had some serious authority issues not to mention she seemed to possess Breezy on and off.
The answer was simple: enroll her in kindergarten. After all, she was old enough for afternoon kindy. I'd resisted thus far because it was going to inconvenience the hell out of me. (And I'd finally got to a place where all my hard work was paying off... publisher, book out, second coming out... etc)
So with that done. We started almost immediately.
Now remember Breezy LOVES kindy. Oh how she loves it. She's missed one day due to not being very well and was devastated!
At 12:45 I told Breezy to get ready for kindy. That should've been the first clue that we were going to be leaving the house shortly.
As if it being T-H-U-R-S-D-A-Y wasn't enough.
Get ready, I explained, meant go to the toilet, wash your face and hands, get your shoes and jacket.
Just to hurry things a long I plopped the child on the toilet myself. While she was occupied I wrestled with and rounded up the cat then snuggled her cranky little self into Breezy's bed and firmly shut the door. (I am not getting one of those phone calls from the alarm company again telling me that the alarm keeps going off and a patrol car is on the way. $35 later the cat is discovered looking out the living room window at the patrolman. It ain't happening again)
I come downstairs to find Breezy jumping around the living room with her pants around her ankles.
No she hadn't been toilet.
A quick lecture about doing as one is told followed as I plopped her back on the toilet. Reminding her I don't need to go to kindy and don't mind staying home.
Sometime later - she appeared again. Finished. I marched her upstairs to wash. She reappeared again but neglected to get her shoes on the way, or her jacket. She tossed herself at the couch.
I'd had my coat and shoes on for sometime.
One of us was ready.
"You'll be late," I cautioned.
She grinned and shrugged.
Apparently getting her shoes and jacket were too difficult for the child who can out smart, and out maneuver most adults.
Stunned at this development I suggested we wouldn't go. (Already I was brimming with joy at the thought of getting to stay home and write.)
Slowly she retrieved her jacket and shoes. Guess she figured I was serious about not going. Either that or the thought of arriving at tidy-up time and getting no playtime actually motivated her.
What I don't get is how Breezy has the audacity to be a Sagittarius? There are a lot of them in our family. We don't like to be late. We're punctual people us fire signs. (Punctual and social, unless you're stupid because none of us tolerate stupid well)
We left the house at 1:30 pm.
She picked up every goddamn flower on the freaking pavement all the way to Kindy.
We arrived at kindy at 2 pm.
Kindy starts at 1:20 pm.
But I'm glad we went. Despite Miss laid back and cruisy not moving at any great pace... and stressing me out! (I declare that will never happen again - matters not to me if she's late)
I met another mum at kindy today, one who lives close. She has the cutest little girl (who I often play with at kindy) and I got to be something (I rarely get to be) ... knowledgeable. I got to impart years of wisdom and reassurance.
It felt good to be helpful. I also gave her my card and told her to text me anytime she needs a break, or to just pop over.
Sometimes you just need to know someone else has been there.
Now to write!!