Tate informed me today, for the millionth time, that he LOVES his school. His preschool is a parent co-op and today was one of my days to work in his class. I also am working on Friday. This means that 10 hours of my week will be spent with Tate and all of his friends at preschool. This week I also have to write two seven page papers and one twenty page paper in addition to several smaller assignments. It is also a very busy volleyball week and there was volleyball drama added to it. Prom is this weekend for Tanner and Tanner's birthday is next week so we really should have a birthday celebration this weekend. Chloe has lots of soccer including two games. Jake's sick and I think every married woman out there understands the implications of that. I suppose that my point is - I don't really have ten hours to spare this week.
Last night I laid out clothes for Tate & I, made our lunch and tried to go to sleep earlier than usual. This morning I took my diet Coke, smiles and my preschool voice and headed off to school. The thoughts running through my brain sounded something like this "If I write seven pages a day for the next four days... let's see, I can write the paper on the Annales school tomorrow and work on the radicals in Britain in the 1790's on Friday, Saturday & Sunday. Oh, crap - I have to work on Friday, too." I won't bore you with the outlines of papers that were being preplanned in my head.
And then I got to school. "Mom! I LOVE my school!" There are some things that never, ever fail to make hanging out for five hours with a bunch of four & five year olds worth every minute. At preschool, when you find a bead, shell or small rock in the sandbox, it is automatically a treasure worth both appreciating and keeping. When a tiny, shy, sweet little girl gives you her treasure to keep, it's just like she gave you a piece of gold. The oak tree that has glitter embedded in its bark got that glitter from the leprechaun that the kids couldn't quite manage to catch on St. Patrick's Day - but it was a close one. I was informed that they almost trapped him. A twelve second lap around the yard is a triumph which is just as awesome as the cross country meets that my high school age runner trained three months to run. Playdough is pizza, letters, flowers, stars and more pizza. I was very, very full of pizza today. The fact that words rhyme is akin to something magical. Tate, late. "THAT RHYMES!" At preschool it is possible that the tooth fairy takes the teeth and puts them in the sky where they become stars. Or maybe she builds her castle out of the teeth. But probably she just uses magic to turn the teeth into money. Also at preschool, a quarter or even better a dollar is a lot of money.
For ten hours this week, I get to forget all about writing papers, teenagers going to prom, sports drama and money worries. Instead, I get to spend time in a place where what glitters is, in fact, gold. Where a dollar is a fortune, a rock is a treasure and rhyming is magic.
