The day has come

The day has come. My youngest babe has officially reached school age – preschool age, that is. We have signed our little man up to attend Mrs. Gail McClure’s “Bearly Ready Four Three-School”, which is the same preschool that Rowan attended. Today is the big first day. Gail has been teaching her preschool for over 20 years and has the most adorable classroom that she created in her converted RV garage (20 foot ceilings or higher). She even built a very real looking “tree” around the potty, so the kids feel like they are going inside a tree to do their business. So cute. Gail just goes way over the top on everything she does, whether it is art projects, class presentations, holiday gifts, etc. I hope Easton loves it. I think it will be so good for him to have a little more social time with some fellow 4 year old peeps.

At the preschool open house last Thursday, each child received his very own personalized backpack, notebook, and supply case filled with all the kid essentials: glue, crayons, scissors, pencils, etc. Oh yes – and the way-too-big maroon class t-shirt that they’re all supposed to wear today (see the picture above). Ryan had the privilege of taking Easton to the meet and greet. He said that Easton was super shy at first, but opened up pretty quickly and seemed more than happy to decorate and eat his apple shaped sugar cookie. When I met up with Easton later in the day, I asked him what he thought about his classroom. He told me that his teacher was pretty and had blonde hair like me.

Good observations for an almost 4 year old boy.

He then he proudly showed me his blue Easton backpack (see pic below). But before I could get a good look, he pulled it back and said seriously, “Did you wash your hands? It can’t get dirty.”

What a crack up.

But when you’re the youngest and you’ve never ever had your very own personalized backpack before, apparently it’s a pretty big deal. Or so I’ve learned. And when I tried to open his notebook to read all the parent info that Mrs. McClure sent home for us, he got a little miffed and told me, “That’s supposed to stay in here, Mom. Don’t take it out!” So I waited till later when the coast was clear and read up on all the important mom stuff.

On Friday as we were getting packed up for the cabin, Easton and I were chatting about his upcoming birthday, what we were going to do at the cabin, and school starting this week, among other things. I asked him if he was excited for school. Of course he said yes. But then I made the mistake of saying, “You are going to love school. Mrs. McClure is a good friend of mine and she is just terrific.” Out of nowhere, my happy-go-lucky boy burst into a fit of tears like he’d just ran into a wall, and bellowed out, “She can’t be your friend! She’s my teacher.”

A little territorial, are we?