Most people in our lives know that Lilah Rose has been on a waiting list for Drayton Avenue Co-op Preschool since Fall. I fell in love with the school when I learned about it and contacted the staff. They believe in learning through play. There is a teacher (who was once a student herself), an assistant teacher, and at least 3 parent volunteers in a class of 16. I was delighted with the ratio of adults to children. Dano and Lilah visited the classroom and she cried when she left. I took that as a good sign this was the school for her.
She was placed on the list and I was told I would be contacted if a spot opened up. At the beginning of the year, she was Number 5. I fretted on and off about Number 5. I knew there were good children and good teachers at local public preschool programs. But even the best teachers could become overwhelmed when they had 30 students to contend with. I was on the fence between wanting her to adapt like an American and wanting her to have in school a small measure of the attention we'd given her all her life.
Out of nowhere toward the end of November, I received an email from the school. A student had dropped. Lilah was in. I was terrified and overjoyed. I had to go to a general school meeting and pay her tuition the very next day, as well as sign up for working days (all parents are required to volunteer 2 days a month in the classroom, as well as serve on a committee, participate in a major classroom clean once a year, and bring a monthly snack and drink). I went to the meeting full of trepidation. I stood off in a corner as droves of parents filed in with hugs of greeting to one another. Everyone looked so happy. I was wide-eyed, white-faced, tight-lipped. Someone at a table motioned over to me. "Are you..." she glanced at her paper. "Alexanders?" I forced a quick smile and nodded. She had a ledger with names and totals due. I saw my name and my total and handed her my check. She waved me on to a woman taking down names and dates of working parents. I was third to get there so I got third pick for dates. I signed up for convenient dates and removed myself to my corner. I was followed by several mothers who introduced themselves and proceeded to answer any questions I had (but I hadn't actually asked a single one). It was more like "You must be wondering how this works." They ushered me into the meeting and I found a seat with my program, the minutes, and my growing collection of parent email addresses. The meeting consisted of parents updating the parents on the states of the committees and fundraisers. The teacher, Mrs Fuller, went over the curriculum for the next two months. She also warmly but sincerely chided the parents at expecting so much of their little ones. They played alphabet games, learned how to use a calendar, created patterns. Countless early literacy and math skills. However, the main focus of preschool was and should be social skills and peer interaction. Those were skills adults took for granted that someone, somewhere taught them.
Afterward, Mrs Fuller introduced herself and asked about Lilah. I told her how relieved and refreshed I was to hear her views on teaching the children. I left feeling so much less apprehensive about her starting. On her first day, she was dressed to the 9's in a new dress and tights. She was nervous. I was near tears but still smiling. Dano would spend her first day with her and I had no call to be nervous. She was pacing the floor, suggesting that maybe she could just wear her new dress at home and watch movies. I kissed her and told her she'd be fine. I couldn't do it. I couldn't cry and heap all my anxiety on that tiny, braided, blonde head. I couldn't tell her how scared I was. She'd feel even worse. I swallowed it all and left for work. I cried at my desk instead.
Of course she had a wonderful day. Of course she was brilliant. She had fun, made 6 friends, used play dough, made a painting, and had an amazing day. Every day since has been better. She announced to me that she was planning to marry a little boy named Ira, and was going to tell him of her intentions the next day at school. This announcement went over decently with Ira, who reportedly said, "Okay I guess," then agreed to hold a doll while she brushed its hair. She's learning about Hanukkah, shapes, colors, seasons, friends, days of the week, and how to dress a bear for any weather. I hear stories of her little friends. One day she absconded with another child's show-and-tell frog only to be caught by her assistant teacher to return the frog. Tomorrow is show-and-tell and Lilah is taking Merida. She is asking a little girl named Frances Rose to come over and make Christmas cookies. Somehow I have glided effortlessly from them mother of a cute, babbling, rosie-cheeked baby into the mother of a beautiful, betrothed preschool frog-thief. Our life, our family is evolving before our eyes.
