Call me a pessimist. I was all but ready to declare preschool a failure before it even began. But you know what? He did it! Paul not only is surviving, he's thriving. The first day did get off to a rocky start. As you can see in the photo in front of Paul's school, he's not looking too optimistic. Indeed, when Mark made to leave after dropping him off, Paul did throw the tantrum I had been fearing. Mark called me with the not-so-great news, and I spent the next couple hours half-expecting that the teachers would be calling to say that I would need to come and pick up Paul. No such call ever came, and when I picked him up, I didn't hear howling or see tears, I saw a boy who was excited to tell me about his day and show me the craft project he'd made. Sure, the first thing he said was that he had missed me, but he also said he had fun.
After the first day, things have gotten progressively easier. By the second week of class, he had given up crying all together, much to my relief. Last week, one of his teachers told me what a great smile Paul has and how nice it is to have him there. It looks like now instead of fearing the worst, I can look forward to hearing about the daily star person, what Paul ate for a snack and the fun he had with his wonderful teachers and friends. Hallelujah!
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