Fast forward to this past Summer. Enter, Vacation Bible School Meltdown(s) of Holy Epic Proportions. And yes, the capitalization are very necessary. He? Went through an extreme separation anxiety phase where he would look me dead square in the eye with the most serious 4 year old expression a not quite 4 year old could wear and ask, "Mommy! MOM! MA! You stay here for THIS MANY (holds up many fingers, constantly changing the amount) minutes ok? OK? And then you come back. YOU ALWAYS COME BACK. IT PUTS THE LOTION ON THE SKIN... OK?" and then as I'm attempting to scale the fence in the play yard with Lillie under my arm I'll feel these hot sweaty (almost) 4 year old boy arms latching onto my leg and "OMG, PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME THEY'RE GOING TO MAKE ME EAT COOKIES, DRINK JUICE AND PLAY AND SING SONGS AND LET'S GO HOME NOW, OK??!?" Once Lo was talked down off the ceiling, Lillie would break out the hysterics and snot bubbles and all the VBS teachers would start begging the higher ups to pleeeeease let that sweet pwecious widdle baaaaby stay with her Brother!??! It never worked and every single time without fail, both kids would be a hot mess and I'd end up sobbing myself all the way back to the house.
Fast forward to today.
Ok, not really, here's a funny story that happened OOOOOH, a week ago at Lo's 4-K orientation where I quite literally came off the fence about Homeschooling. More on that topic later. Tomorrow sound good to you? Fantastic! So the Husband and I are in the Parent/Teacher meeting while the kids are greeting each other (some for the first time) and getting a feel for the newish layout. I can still hear Lo faintly behind the glass door, "Mommy? MAMA? WHERE ARE YOU WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!!!" Ok, maybe not the last part, but just as dire sounding all the same. I never once heard Lillie do her ear piercing scream that she does when her space is invaded. So obviously someone had stolen her. I start having a panic attack (for more reasons than one) and rush outside to find the kiddie potty, scanning for my children as I dash across the room. Lillie is reading books to the teachers and Lo spots me and attaches himself to my leg. I narrowly avert disaster by reminding him that his Father is looking for him in the other room. HAHAHAHAHAHA. I = evil. Once I'm composed again, and feel well enough to speak to the head Teacher, she begins to broach the idea of Lillie joining 3-K early. I wasn't entirely sold on the idea until she said that she had no plans of filling another kid's spot who had backed out to keep class size to a minimum... UNLESS it was for Lillie of course. I told her I'd think about it... not 5 minutes down the road I text her asking about doing a trial run for a few days. She asked for an economy size package of paper towels in return. And that, my friends, is how you barter for your children's education. Take note, amigos!
So today, we WERE talking about today... right?
Today my baby started her trial run. Today she wore big girl pants all day and didn't once have to be changed. Today, I once again threatened my child about pooping in their pants. Because I am that stupid. She hasn't pooped in 24 hours. Tomorrow's snacks will consist of Quaker Oatmeal Square cereal and prunes... and also lots and lots of sitting on the potty chair and reading "Once Upon A Potty." On the bright side, I didn't say she'd be kicked out of school... I simply told her that it was like going to the pool where we can't poop in class, we had to tell someone we needed to go potty. I thought I was brilliant! I thought, AT LAST! I'VE DONE SOMETHING RIGHT! And then she refused to pee all day until I started re-reading "Once Upon a Potty" and broke out Lo's old (gag me) plastic potty chair from the depths of the under sink storage where I'd hoped it'd gone to die. Welcome to Poop Strike 2011. Let's not talk about how I gave her a few Mylicon drops before bed in hopes for the best first thing tomorrow. Instead, let's talk about the fact that she had more fun at school today than I think she'd had in her entire life. So much fun that when we got to the school, Lo was plastered against the door much the same as last year and when I walked inside and they announced I'd come to pick her up, she saw me, LEAPED from her chair at the snack table screaming, "NO, ME DON'T WANT TOOOOOO!" and hid under the play table across the room. She was sobbing and snotty and convinced she was not allowed to come back and partake in all the fun to be had tomorrow. It took my Husband dragging her out by the legs.
So here's hoping tomorrow doesn't present itself with a basket full of fresh baked FAIL... and seriously, we'll get to the Homeschooling discussion... mkay?