A picture of Sam’s picture on his cubby at school. It cracked me up.
After a couple months off hanging out with his dad and sister, Sam is back at preschool. He’s been bumped up to the pre-k room (I am in deep denial about what “k” stands for), which is fantastic, but as usual with Sam, he’s having a slightly rough time with the transition. He does great in the mornings, but he’s struggling with nap time. He’s not been sleeping, and he says nap time is too long. When not sleeping, I’m sure an hour and a half IS a long time to lay quietly on a cot. (but seriously kid, SLEEP. Sleeping is a wonderful thing. Maybe grown ups should have nap time instead of kids).
Earlier this week, his class had a teddy bear picnic and I went over to join them for lunch. When I picked Sam up, his “how I did today” color was orange, which is dangerously close to red, which means trouble. When I asked him what was wrong, he said he kept thinking of when I was there at the picnic and it made him sad and he wanted to call his mommy.
Is that not pathetic and sad and sweet? The kid is killing me.
Drop off was awful today – he was crying and so sad, and when I hugged him before I left, he grabbed onto my belt and wouldn’t let go. As soon as I pried that hand off, he grabbed it with the other one. And so on. His teacher was great and I could hear her comforting him after I left the room (why yes I was eavesdropping), but man it broke my heart.
We’ve been down this road before. I know he was fine after I left, and I know that once he gets comfortable in his new room, nap time will be fine. And really, drop off has been great every day but today.
But today was painful, and it’s the painful ones that stick with ya.