Goodbye to M's Preschool class

It was a bittersweet day. At the time that my daughter is "graduating" from her preschool class of 3 and 4 year olds, I have to say goodbye to my weekly parent group meetings. All parents should have such a group, and this ECFE program in Minnesota is the best thing invented for parents, well, since children. I've been in many, many classes and met with many, many parents since M was born. This year was truly the best year for me with regard to the parents that I met in both M and K's classes. Monday mornings and Tuesday afternoons I was assured at least an hour of laughing, crying, nodding in agreement, or just sitting in a room with other parents that knew what I was going through.

I am a bit biased to the ECFE program that we participate in (called PAIIR here), since I used to work there before I had M. But before I had M I didn't really understand what so many of the parents would write in their end-of-class evaluations. Things like "I don't know how I'd have survived each week if it wasn't for PAIIR," or, "What a great support system."

M's preschool class this year was really great. I'm not sure how to describe it, but everyone seemed to get along well, and everyone seemed to be so honest and open about their parenting problems and solutions. Some of the parents (okay, 13 moms and 1 dad) shared what their husbands had nicknamed our group...things like Karen's hubby's "Tuesday Fight Club".

We talked about every sort of parenting topic that comes up with 3-4 year olds, and some that come up with the younger set as most of us had younger kids as well. Topics like how to deal with your kid's pet fish dying in the fish tank because it got mangled in the filter ...and she sees you finishing the job. Or how to deal with the frog that you got to replace that fish that also dies and since your preschooler is already preoccupied with death you say that you let the frog outside to see a rainbow and it hopped away. Or when your kid keeps pooping in her underwear and you think you might go postal if you have to clean out poopie underwear 4 times a day for the rest of your life. Or how to keep your kids from pulling one another's hair out when they're sitting next to one another in the back seat of the car.

These brave women said things out loud that I thought and felt horribly guilty for thinking. But when they said those things they seemed funny, and normal, and I didn't feel like a terrible mommy for a few minutes.

But, on the bright side, while I am going to miss these sessions...I am one of the lucky ones. We are going to be going to preschool next year as well. (It will move to Monday Fight Club for Dirk's reference.) Most of the participants will be the same...but some will not. We got great news that one of the families that was in M's class (who happens to be her little boyfriend) that was on a waiting list got into the class for next year today. But we also had to say goodbye to some friends. Karen and her kids are moving to New York and will be missed at "Monday Fight Club". They brought these lovely flowers for the kids and for the parents and the teachers. And L, her daughter, made a card for the kids. Luckily, we discovered one another's blogs recently, so I hope to keep in touch that way...at least I'll be reading hers.

So I'm a bit sappy feeling tonight. I also said goodbye to another friend tonight who I met at one of K's PAIIR classes when he was about 3 months old. Her husband was an area sportscaster and got a job in MI, so they're moving this weekend. I got all teary-eyed at PAIIR this afternoon and at the restaurant tonight. I'm a big crybaby. I seem to have a strict rule to not let anyone cry alone. (But that's another topic.)

So then I get home. I had asked my Dad to come out and watch the kids so I could go to my "Mom night out" on time since Craig had to work "late". He was home by 6:30. I left my Dad with the kids at about 5:45. Again, I get home. Both kids are still awake at 8 pm. And they're both with a bit less skin than when I left. I guess they were riding in our wagon and my Dad thought it would be okay to let them roll down the (granted, small) hill by our house, without him holding on at all. M has a scrape on her (burned) arm, but higher up on her arm, and K has a pretty big road rash on his face. Nice. I know my Dad has to feel terrible. Craig said we he got home the first thing my Dad said was "sorry, I damaged your kids again." (He thinks it's his fault if they get hurt in any way when he's anywhere near them.) So anyway, I'll take a photo of K tomorrow and post it. He's got some nice battle wounds.