Illustration by Chris Danger
Somehow, quite without warning, my sweet, spunky firstborn daughter graduates from preschool in June. She, like all precocious children, has taken this life transition in stride and talks constantly about how fun it will be to be a kindergartener.
I, on the other hand, sob quietly into my coffee when the subject comes up. Mostly because I am fairly positive that she is in fact, still the exact same pink, squealing newborn I brought home from the hospital five years ago.
It’s a momentous change, and I know that starting in the fall, both of our lives will be quite different. However, life continues, despite our best efforts to slow its pace, and the good news is that I can now offer years of hard-earned wisdom to any preschool newbies out there just setting out down the path of early childhood education.
1. Throw away (most of) the art.
In the beginning, you will feel the need to keep it all. It won’t matter that to anyone else, those splatters of paint could easily have been created by a monkey. You will find them perfect and worthy of praise and refrigerator space. But then your child will continue to bring the art home. Every. Single. Day. It will pile up around your house, stashed in drawers and boxes, an ever-expanding collection of alphabet drawings and finger-painted butterflies. Keep the cute ones, but then (and this is very important), when your child is not looking, toss 98% of them into the recycling pile.
2. Notes are never a good thing.
I never feel more dread than when I pick up my kids and see a little sticky note attached to their papers. Notes are the universal, passive-aggressive communication method of preschools the world over, and they are, almost without fail, the adult equivalent of being called to the principal’s office. I have gotten notes about being too early. I have gotten notes about being too late. There have been notes about not sending in mittens or forgetting to pack a backup mask. And I’m one of the lucky ones. I have heard many a tale of the infamous biting note (both the biter and the bitten receive one), which I have luckily avoided. There’s no way to avoid the notes. But try your best to roll with it.
3. Buy school snacks from a natural foods store.
Preschools, rightly, request that any snack brought in must not only be allergen-free but also packaged in an allergen-free facility. That sounds simple enough. It’s not. If you are at a “normal” grocery store, there is almost nothing besides fruit or vegetables or a steak that fits that description. And unless little Timmy can have a sirloin for his class party, chances are you’re going to need a bakery item that is also allergy-friendly. Just go to a natural foods store. They have entire product lines dedicated to this stuff. Speaking as someone who once sent in muffins that were not made in a dedicated allergy-free facility (and got a very stern note as a result), it is much easier to just take advantage of the many specialty store products that are designed for such occasions.
4. Prepare for post-school demon possession.
It is possible (but unlikely) that prior to preschool, you’ve never witnessed your child in the throes of a demonic possession. Maybe they have been sweet little angels their whole life. That’s all going to change. No one in this world is more prone to a severe rage blackout than a cranky, hungry, post-school preschooler. My solution? I keep snacks in the car and throw them back at their car seats like I’m driving a vehicle full of feral dogs. It’s unconventional, but it works.
5. They cry. They will be fine.
Nothing will break your heart more than the first time you drop your kid off at preschool and they wail and cling to your leg like you are the last helicopter out of Saigon. But it’s inevitable. They all do it to varying degrees. Some kids get used to the drop-off in a few days. Others take weeks or months. Some do it literally every single day for their first year (both of my two older kids). But the truth is, by the time you get to your car, they’ve likely dried their tears and moved on to the Lego bin. Kids are a wonderful combination of forgetful and resilient.
If there is one defining lesson I learned from my years in the preschool trenches, it’s that my daughter was always just fine, even without me. That, perhaps, was the hardest, but most important, lesson of all.
Elizabeth Becker is a writer, a registered nurse and a mom of three. Read more about her life and other parenting epiphanies at lifeinacoffeespoon.com.
