Jules is a big boy now. So big that he's been enrolled in school.
I know, you're wondering how he just started school in Janurary. Well, pre-school isn't real school. You can start anytime there is a opening. I'd checked around back in August, but very few places had a 2 year old program & they were all full.
Realizing that he would likely enjoy & benifit from the expierence of going a couple days a week to some sort of interaction that didn't invovle us, I sucked it up & called again. This time, one place that seemed good & had good reviews had one opening. A 2 day a week opening, from 9am-noon.
I was happy. Excited. Nervous. The whole normal stuff.
Finally came the day when we were going to look around & let Jules have a chance to have a trial day.
Simply put, he did so good. He was a little iffy at first with the adults, but he saw kids & was great. He played. Then he sat in the circle on the carpet with everyone. I went to tell him bye & he looked at me like, "jeesh mom, I'm with my friends."
I left feeling a few things. First, FREE! Yeah, that's right, I was fucking free. I had a whole 2 more hours of being able to go to the post office. Or watch something on TV I wanted. I also felt sad because he didn't really care that I left. Then I felt scared because what if someone was mean to him? What if someone picked on him? And then I felt guilt because growing up my mom always told me preschool was only for kids whose parents didn't love them. And then I almost failed kindergarten because I spent my entire day crying & scared, & I'm still socially awkward in alot of situations. I blame that whole "preschool is for people who don't love their kids" mindset. Attachment issues, I had them.
Anyway, I picked him up & he was great. He showed me that he colored animals. He seemed great!
...then he told us later on about the kid grabbing his shirt.
WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN SOMEONE GRABBED YOUR SHIRT?! HOLY SHIT, I WILL FIND THAT KIDS MOM & KICK HER ASS!
What, that's not a normal response? I got more of the story. Jules was chasing him. He likes to play tag...even when other kids aren't aware they are playing tag. Then he said the kid grabbed his shirt. Then he said he grabbed the kids shirt. Then the kid told him "go back home!" to which my brilliant son responded with, "NO!"
Harmless. But I still wanted to find the kid & his mom.
I suddenly realized I was going to be that mom. But nothing sealed the deal for me quite like the 2nd week.
The Tuesday of his 2nd week, he brought home his art work.
How great is that stuff? But really, no, that B! I mean fucking seriously. How fucking awesome is that B artwork?! It's fucking beautiful. Perfect. Fucking amazing. No other kid could have done better than that. Shit, I wouldn't have been able to do that well. Seriously, I think it's fucking genius. Isn't that just awesome?!
And that igloo! He told us it was a igloo! And that a moose lived in it! A MOOSE!
My son is a fucking genius. And he was able to place bug stickers in a perfect order.
I've decided he's gifted. And he'll be an artist. I only wish I could claim that I was kidding. I know I'm fucking irrational. But god damn, I think he's the greatest thing ever. No, I don't. I KNOW he is. I'm only saying "think" to not sound so damn big headed. But I seriously know he's the best 3 year old in the world. If you have any doubt, check out that B artwork!
...I know, I know. I can't help myself though.
Here are a couple school pictures, so I can brag.
He's got a hanging spot!
And here is my awesome child putting his stuff away.
And then he hangs up his "busy bee" name thing.
Seriously, he's a fucking genius. He'll be president one day & I'll be able to show this picture & show how well he did at hanging up his busy bee. Speaking of bee's, how about that letter B artwork?!
He's so big. :(
I'm such a mom.
He loves the fact that in music class he gets stamps on his hands.
Of course nothing can be easy for us...just a few hours after these pictures were taken, my big brave boy ended up in the urgent care. My wonderful boy was outside playing right after we got home. He loves snow, you know.
But somehow he slipped on ice. I was a whole 2 feet away, he had a foot on the slide & I guess his other foot slipped, because he went down really hard & to add insult to injury he then slid about 3 feet across the ground of ice. He screamed hysterically, said he never wanted to go outside again. This went on about 30 minutes, he told me it was hurting really bad & hurting to breath. After calling & alerting people, I took him to the urgent care just in case something awful was going on. After getting a once over, he was diagnosed with bruised ribs. Of course, he keeps telling us all "I'm broken." Not a fun time at all. See?
My genius boy, he's tough. He's also still 3.
Yep, that's popcorn.
And here he is making a popcorn angel.
And no, he's not wearing pants.
Blair can stand.
And we have another cat. He just showed up at our house. In the house.
His name is Shemp. I love him.
Lucky #13. I always wanted a black & white cow print cat. It just took 12 before him to finally get him.
And in the final news update, Adam has agreed to knocked me up one more time. Not now, it'll be this time next year. But hey, it works. And then, we shall be done. More than done really. But I figure we should go for it. It's insane & will be crazy. Totally crazy. But it feels right.
Remind me of how I said it feels right when I'm in the hospital getting gutted open.