Rex, Rocky, Vivi, and Billy                                                                            

A Letter to Rex's Future Preschool Teacher

A Letter to Rex's Future Preschool Teacher

Dear Teacher,

Is your name Sally?  I hope so.  For some reason Rex always says he is going to have a teacher named Sally.  I think it has something to do with the Cars movie. So, if it isn’t, I’ll let you break the news.

Anyway, a couple of things to clue you in on right off the bat.  I have anxiety.  It’s totally fine, I’m medicated.  And I will have my Xanax on standby for the first day’s drop off to avoid any tantruming on my end.  Also, Rex is my oldest, and I’ve really only left him alone with family until now.  So yeah, I set you up.  I agree.  Sorry.

You should know he’s a bit of a dictator, so following unwanted direction doesn’t always go smoothly.  I should have done a better job with that (another set up—oops).  At home we use a lot of bribery.  I assume you guys frown upon that.  So, use whatever tactics work for you, but if you are ever in a real pinch, I can send in a few packs of fruitsnacks.  They do the trick every time.

If he ever gets sad and wants to come home, or says that he misses me, just call me and I’ll come right over.  Wait, no. Keep him there.  He has to learn to adjust in these kinds of situations.  But, just let me know at the end of the day so I know where he is at.  No, don’t do that.  It will make me too sad.  Okay, maybe if he says it occasionally but can be redirected don’t tell me, but if he cries for a really long time and feels really sad than tell me.   Or shoot me a text.  Then you won’t see me crying like an idiot when you tell me. Yeah, text me.

I’m sorry in advance for the million games of chase that he will try to play throughout the day.  If you are lucky, it won’t be a rescue mission.  But if it is, his sirens will be on.  And they are loud.  Just tell him to pull over and turn them off.  Or tell him he ran out of gas, and that you are out.  Just tell him mom will fill him up when he gets home.  That should buy you the remainder of the day.

Also, he doesn’t really have the “th” sound down yet. Comes out more like an “h”.  So, like, “things” is more like “hings” and “thanks” is “hanks”.  You get it.  I just don’t want him to get in an emergency situation where a “th” word is necessary and have you unable to understand him.  A lot of words have “th” sounds ya know.

And he is entering that kind of aggressive phase where he is starting to stomp his feet and growl sometimes.  He usually thinks he is paying a game, but sometimes he does it when he is frustrated.  He can also throw an angry fit with the best of them, and he’s even been known to throw a haymaker at someone for taking his toy.  I promise, he doesn’t mean it.  He is the craziest little ball of energy and when he directs it in the right place he can light up a room.  Please don’t get too frustrated with him.  I promise his meltdowns are usually pretty short lived.

He also does this weird fake laugh that looks really dorky.  Just laugh with him.  And he tries to make jokes that don’t really make sense.  Laugh then too.  Oh yeah, and he likes to suggest things a lot and then will ask you, “Isn’t that a GREAT idea?!”—let him down gently if you have to.  And at the end of the ABC’s he says “Y, U, Z” instead of “Y and Z”, I haven’t had the heart to correct him on that one yet.

And I am sure you have heard it before—but I have never been as nervous as I am to leave Rex with you.  There are actually no words to describe how scary this kind of letting-go is going to feel for me.  I am sure after a few weeks and I will be sipping my coffee at home with only one kid on my hip looking into the extended day option.  But until then, please don’t judge me for seeming all whacked out and emotional and weird and attached.  He’s my most favorite thing ever.

Oh, and do you mind installing surveillance technology so I can watch what you guys are doing from home?  Just kidding.  Kind of.

Love,

Samm

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