This morning I did something crazy. It wasn’t illegal or insane, but it was still crazy! I crawled out of my warm, toasty bed at 5:00 a.m. and woke up (!) my sleeping baby to nurse her because I wouldn’t home when she woke up several hours later. I fumbled around in the dark to put on some sweat pants and brushed my teeth while pulling my hair into something resembling a pony tail. After a tiny bowl of raisin bran, I started the car as quietly as possible and drove away from my sleeping family as fast as the law allows!
I thought about stopping for coffee, but I didn’t want to risk it. So, I pulled into the parking lot at 5:30 a.m. and I saw a bunch of cars already lined up. I panicked while trying to count them. A stranger approached my car as I pulled up, “Here you go,” she said, handing me a sticky note with a number on it. “You are #9. When the next person pulls in, please tell them they are #10.” I had an important job to do…one I took very seriously!
What were 8 other people and myself doing in a parking lot at 5:30 a.m. on a very cold Friday in February?!
It was registration day at our preschool…yes, as in nursery school. And, we all were hoping to get one of 14 spots in a 4-year-old class. Granted, it is a class with awesome teachers. But, I was #9 at 5:30 a.m. in February to get into a 4-year-old class for next September? Really? And, the first person was there at 4 a.m.!? Really?
My husband asked me last night what would happen if I did not get into this particular class. (He knows months in advance when registration day is so that he can clear his morning work schedule!). He saw that I was growing more anxious as the day grew closer. “So, what if you are #15?” he asked. “Banish the thought, ” I warned him!
I know that my daughter would do wonderful in any class next year. She is highly motivated and loves to learn, and she is very friendly, polite, and easygoing. But, my older daughter and my son have had/have these teachers, and I am so pleased with the entire experience.
The children are greeted at the door by teachers who genuinely love them and care for them. The teachers do not ignore the parents, but rather, they invite us into their classroom every day. They know our families and listen to us vent about our lives with young children (they are also moms!). It is such a welcoming and caring place to be. Our children not only learn their ABCs and numbers, but they grow in character as they learn about Jesus and God’s love for them.
Am I crazy? Are we collectively crazy (the cars just kept on arriving…even though registration didn’t start until 8:45)? Perhaps. (Or maybe this sounds quite normal…and 5:30 might even be late for preschool registration…in other parts of the country!).
But, I am more happy than tired right now. I want to give my children everything they need (though definitely not everything they want). I know this will get so much harder as they grow so quickly.
So, for today, I will enjoy knowing that my daughter Cecilia will, God willing, have a most positive preschool experience next year…and seeds will be planted for a lifetime. Call me crazy, but I think it was all worth it. Now, please excuse me as I go take a nap!
Copyright 2013 Trish Bolster