Week 2: And Sailor, Too

We started the second week off with the 5th anniversary of the September 11th terrorist attacks. It’s just gotta get better from here! I kept the kids with me. Yes, Mac incurred his 1st absence on the 5th day of school. I think this 5-days-a-week thing is overrated and a bit much anyway. Four days is just fine with me. Spent the day with Lisa and Logan and new baby Parker baking cookies for the firefighters. Every year they seem so surprised when I silently hand them our red, white, and blue adorned baked goods and say only “thank you.” This year was no exception. Next year I will begin a cookie campaign to try to encourage friends and relatives to honor our 9/11 heroes with baked goods. I felt no guilt keeping Mac home from school. It felt more normal than sending him. On September 11th I will always keep my babies close. There are enough things to learn at home on that day. So far I have managed to avoid a first day of school on September 11th. I’m really good at scheduling.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006
For those of you wondering how Sailor's first day of preschool today went.... It was horrible!
Sailor’s 1st day. Breakfast. Bath. Clothes that I ironed. Yes, you read that right. I ironed my not-quite-three-year-old’s clothes for the 1st day of school. The real question here is why does any not-quite-three-year-old even own clothes that need to be ironed?! But the effect was worth the effort. White button down shirt, blue sweater vest, khaki shorts, white ankle socks, saddle shoes. He was the best dressed kid in preschool!
We walked, just the three of us. This is not a fanfare kid. We rounded the bend…. Then protestations began. “I don’t want to go.” “Yes you do,” I countered, but feebly .
The other moms left their boys (there are but three little girls in this class). Mac tugged at my sleeve to leave (where did he have to go, I wondered!) while Sailor counter-tugged for me to stay. “Mommy I want to be with you!” (My baby! I want to be with you too. Run run run out of here! My heart screamed but my head said, give him a chance!) I left him sobbing hysterically. I mean he was sobbing. I mean I was sobbing. I swore I’d never leave my child like that. Hypocrite.
Mac & I waited. We walked home. I paced. I did laundry. I shook. I cried. I ranted and raved at my mother. She said he needed independence. But he’s not even three! He misses the cut-off! He doesn’t need to go to school this year. Hypocrite. I hate myself!
I bathed Mac. I cooked him lunch. At 10:40 a.m.
We were out the door at 11:00. School ends at 12:00. School is 10 minutes away on foot and 2 by car. I NEED MY BABY BACK!
It rained. Hard.
Mac’s 1st day had been bright and sunny.
The rain was ominous.
These were the longest 2 ½ hours of my life.
Sailor sat perched atop the climbing thing. “Where’s Mac? I want him to see me up here!” he demanded, and cheerfully.
And his big question on the way out, “Now I’m three?”
I’m exhausted.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006. I took the kids ice skating this morning. We’ve been waiting for this since Mac was in utero. Sailor hated it. He cried. All the usual stuff. Mac swore he would hate it and begged to stay home. As we were on our way out the door he said he’d changed his mind. He skated like a champ. Sure the kids and I would not be back next Wednesday morning, I forked over $73 to resume my 6-years-ago abandoned lessons myself.
We loved it, the kids said. When do we get to go back? Can I skate at home? Why don’t I get to keep my skates…? And on and on.
Raining again (still?). Drove Mac to kindergarten. As we drove off Sailor pipes up from the backseat, “I want to go to preschool!”
Cut to 7:30 p.m. a mere 7 hours later. “I’m never going to preschool again,” quoth Sailor.
Thursday. Sailor cried all the way to school. “But you have to go. All three-year-olds go to school. And you’re almost three. It’s your job,” I tried. “I want to stay two!” 9:30 a.m. I am mid-complaint with a Caribou-ista (what does Caribou Coffee call their baristas?) over the dismaying fact that while their kids’ chocolate milk costs exactly twice as much as Starbucks’, it is only about 2/3 the size. Cell phone vibrates my hip (for a moment of almost-pleasure) while I guiltily sip my Caribou Coffee and Mac slurps his overpriced chocolate milk. “I just wanted you to hear all the happy children,” says Sailor’s preschool teacher. Whew. I’m pretty impressed. And obligated now to pick up McDonald’s Transfat Fest for Sailor, and of course for Mac, as well. Ah, bribery! It’s good stuff.
So, is it my imagination – or my extreme state of “broke-ness” – but has ole’ Micky D’s gotten really pricey? Eight bucks for two medium fries, two chocolate milks, a cheeseburger and a 6-piece McNuggets. It was the McNuggets that did me in. Eight bucks. Sheesh. I remember when six bucks could buy food for three kids and two adults (ok, two teenaged girls). Of course, I had to admit to the fry guy to whom I was voicing my unchallenged complaint) that this was a while ago. “Probably not so long ago,” he commiserates. He’s right. I wasn’t 16 that long ago. Only about 22 years.
And it’s not like the food (if you can call it that) is even remotely good for you. (Super-salty fries were yummy, thou. Went great with the now 3-hour-old coffee. Yum!)

Sailor was happy when we picked him up, mid-group coloring project. He tried to run to me but Mac intercepted him and he got a quick hug but I was his real target. (Big sigh!) We'll bring cupcakes on Tuesday for his birthday, which might make the day more fun for him. “I’m drawing but I don’t want to anymore,” he told me. His teachers seem to really like him. I wish he'd return the sentiment!
We picnicked our contraband lunch outside the big school. I was just waiting for the principal to come over and inquire as to how I could feel such garbage to my little learner. Luckily he never made it over to us. Miss H came out for the kids at 12:35. Mac rushed up the stairs. Didn’t even look back until he heard me call above the noise. He blew me a kiss. Blew me a kiss! What’s that all about? I made the saddest pouty face I could muster, while praying all the parents would remain at my back, unable to witness my pathetic display. Mac hopped down the steps, provided Sailor with a cursory hug and kissed my pouty lips. Ah, is this where things are going? It’s only day 7!
So far I feel as if I’ve spent the week in my car.
Kids say the darnedest things. In the bathroom at Staples (why oh why do they change the code to the bathroom lock every single day so that you have to search out one of their incompetent, mumbling employees to let you in?!) Sailor poited to the double roll of toilet paper and remembered, “That like the one at Your Pi… Mac’s Pi.” That’s right, we had the 1st day of school dinner celebrations at My Pi, a neighborhood pizza restaurant! I later put him on the phone to Aunt M: “Staples have da same toilet paper like at Mommy’s Pi.”
As I struggled to complete a Copy Center order at Staples, patient Sailor, sitting in the shopping cart playing with his “Rexo Hu-roes” (aka Rescue Heroes) tells me he wants to take a bath when we get home. He likes to sit in the water and play with the Rescue Heroes for reasons only fully understood by his almost-3-year-old mind. But still I had to ask, “Why?” “Because I’m dirty.” “You are?” “Please I take off my shoe? Let I smell my feet.” He removes the shoe, raises foot to nose, and sniffs. “Pew! See?! My feet dirty.” I’m doubled over with laughter. “Mom, please you put my shoe back on?”
It rained again yesterday. My hair frizzed up. I looked like a 12-year-old. I ran into no fewer than seven people I knew, including a few I hadn’t seen in years, and a local celeb. I was truly mortified by my appearance. Today I would overcompensate and dress the role I prefer: that of hot single mom. Complete with high-heeled sandals. I looked fab. The sun was out. It was a great day for walking. And I didn’t meet up with one single person I knew. Not one. No one even chatted with me outside the big school. But boy did my feet hurt!
“So how was your morning on your date with me?” Mac asked me at dinner. “Wonderful. I love spending time with you.” “And Sailor,” he continues, prompting me to wonder when he became the man of the house, “how was your morning at preschool?” “Hm,” answers Sailor, “Fine.” To which Mac replies, “Hm. Nice to hear.”
“So what’s your favorite thing about kindergarten?” I ask the little man. “Gym.” Predictable. But he’s not done. “Gym. And music.” GrandDad will be so proud.
Tomorrow is, we discovered over some late-night silliness (don’t ask why my boys were still awake after 9:00 p.m. even tho Mac and I have a very serious discussion this morning about the possible consequences he would be expected to endure if he couldn’t work with me on being in bed and asleep by 8:30), Sailor’s last day of two-ness! Say it out loud. Two-ness. It’s a great, belly-laugh of a word. We have a lot to do on his last day of two-ness. Lots to prepare for Saturday. That’s the day he will finally be “getting thhh-ree.”
Friday, 15 September 2006. 8:00 a.m. grocery shopping for the big birthday celebration. 9:30 pediatrician for 3-year checkup. 12:35 Kindergarten drop-off. 1:30 Hot date with hot dentist for continuing work on root canal. 3:15 pick up kindergartener.

Ms. SingleMommy,
Mac is having much
difficulty keeping his
hands to himself. Can we
chat? Thanks.
312-xxx-0602 Ms. H

5:00 Surprise kids with family trip to Kiddieland for Cystic Fibrosis fundraiser and official launch of Sailor’s birthday celebration. 11:00 p.m. Kids home and in bed. Mommy wrapping gifts and decorating house for early a.m. wake-up of birthday boy! Midnight End of 2nd week of kindergarten, 1st week of preschool.