The Preschool Blues

This morning Braydon was having a particularly hard time being three. He was emotional, but on pretty good behavior considering. We stopped at the Starbucks near the college for a little morning pick me up and he made friends with a firefighter. The firefighter gave Braydon a Jr. Firefighter badge - dog tag style. This made Braydon so entirely happy that I thought the rest of his day would be pure bliss. He smiled and played with the badge the whole way to class. We saw one of his friends on the way in and he was even happier as he talked to me about what he and his friend would do today. When we got inside the preschool, I had him put his badge in my purse for "safe keeping" and signed him in, as he merrily skipped away to wash his hands and begin his day.

Before I even finished signing him into the computer, Braydon was running at me with all his force, crying hysterically. He told me that he hated school and never wanted to come back! I tried to ask him what happened but all he said was that he wasn't staying. Suddenly the director of the preschool was there, patting Braydon on the back and asking him if (insert boy's name here) pushed him. WHAT! I thought, but didn't say. Apparently some trouble maker at the school has been picking on Braydon. The director took Braydon and calmed him down, made the little brat apologize to my baby and then got him to paint with a few of his friends.

I could not believe the pain in his eyes, but he's over it and the woman from his school handled it so well. I just hope my attempts to be extra nice and let him stay up late today to watch a Halloween movie compensate for the bad day he had.

Where the End Met the Beginning

A Little Bragging Please First ENG 101 Essay

The topic: 3 pages on a photograph that has significance in the student's life
The photo I chose: the 1st sonogram of my son

The rough draft of my first English 101 essay was due 2 weeks ago. We got them back last Friday with the teacher's comments and edit marks. I am very proud to say that the only thing he took out was a comma and a word that was just a typo. Not only that, but his main comment was, "You end with the word simple twice, but let me say that your story is anything but simple. This is a wonderful tale that is filled with genuine and heartfelt sentiment. This is as close to a flawless draft as any I have ever read. Excellent job". When I read this I was floored! I like to think I am a good writer, but this was one of the best compliments ever. Would you like to see why he said this? Well, the paper is below. I won't be posting everything I ever turn in, but this is about my son's first photograph, and I'd like to share it. Hope it touches you in some way...


Where the End Met the Beginning

Perhaps the single most important photograph taken in my, then 21 years of life, this simple black and white image represents a lifelong intuitive dream come true. With each glance at the picture, a rush of pure love flows through me. That certain, unmistakable piercing in my heart, takes me back to that life altering moment. In observing the 4x6 still, my mind travels to the day that brought physical evidence to the drastic change I was in the midst of. Measure marks and statistics line the right side. “MILLER, TARA,” date and time and more technical markings run along the top. What is memorable, however, is the blurry triangle of life nestled in a dark abyss.

Surrounded by a thin black metal frame, the first photograph of my son stands atop my desk. Within the frame, perfectly suited for this picture, a border of white compliments the black square that surrounds the focal point of this memory. It is a faint image that most people can’t make out. One that I wasn’t sure I was seeing correctly, laying there in the doctor’s office over three years ago. Deep within the grain of grey lays a little boy’s head and body. The shape is so clear to me now; a defined facial structure and a round belly with two appendages that almost look like arms. Wide black circles where eyes would eventually shine and a smile, I was sure, that could light up a room. This is the personification of every intense emotion I’d felt the four months prior to my ultrasound.

Among a sea of family memories, the barely noticeable face of a four month old fetus shines though. Pictures of the beach and holiday get-togethers bring fond memories; however they don’t hold the same utterly consuming sense of purpose as the first sonogram image of my child. This small symbol of infinite opportunity is a constant reminder of how fragile my son is; how fragile we all are. It is in place on my desk to keep that knowledge constantly visible. Though the love never hides behind errands and rules, it is all too easy to let the overflowing emotion of being a mother fade out during everyday routines. Being able to see his face, before it was recognizable, before there were dos and don’ts floating around in his mind, keeps me grounded. It allows me take a step back and realize that there is a bigger picture; to see that whatever roadblock life has thrown on my path, it too shall pass. In the cloudy view of a new life, I see a vessel of pure possibility, my biggest responsibility.

As I lay in the reclining doctor’s office chair on January 23, 2006, I thought about the last several years of my life that had led up to this moment. It did not happen how I had expected, but incredible life changes rarely do. I had always known deep in my heart that I would be a mother. Although the moment came unexpectedly and during the worst time of my life, it was here and there was no going back to what things were before. Waiting for the technician to come into the room, my mother and sister sat with me and we talked a bit about what lay ahead. What was said exactly escapes my mind, but the thoughts going through my head ring as clear today as they did then. I was looking at these two woman who’d been there for me my whole life and who were now standing by my side, when I needed them most, but they weren’t who should have been there. Fighting back tears I wished my child’s father could be with me that day, however much an impossibility it was. Not willing to let the hardships that led me here override the connection I felt to my supporters, I giggled at the tears rolling down my mother’s checks and let my eyes swallow the one’s trying to travel down mine.

With a cold jelly-like substance smeared across my stomach and one arm beneath my head, I breathed in deeply and slowing. This was it; the moment that would make this all real. Two months earlier, the nurse’s words “You’re pregnant” had changed my life drastically. I’d given it all up, every last bad habit, with the sound of those three syllables, but on this day the preparations and changes would be brought to life on the small grey screen in front of me. The tall woman in scrubs smelled like faint roses and had a gentile touch as she rolled the transducer over the small swell of my abdomen. A heartbeat, a head, a body, legs, arms and… “Do you want to know the sex of the baby?” she asked. With my answer, a penis was pointed out and a sigh of complete relief washed over the small room. Having dreamt about girls for months, I was sure the ultrasound would reveal a different outcome, but I was hoping for a boy and was filled with delight to be given that answer.

Several pictures were recorded and different body parts were discussed as I held in the tears and my mother let them go without any restraint. Though my face was void of salty evidence, I was overwhelmed at the sight of my baby boy on that screen. My entire being was flowing with wildly thriving emotions that I’d never felt; emotions for this tiny person who was ultimately saving my life. Being given the gift that is parenthood had changed me in just a few short months, and I knew it was only the beginning. Leaving behind the person I was before my pregnancy wasn’t hard. I’d left so many pieces of myself behind for a lot less in the past. This time, however, it was for the sake of something beyond the physical world as we know it. It was, and still is, for the sake of creating a life and the road taken after his birth is what would present the biggest challenge.

Able to feel him inside of me in a different way after the ultrasound, I had realized that I was not just carrying a fragile person, but something so much more. Cradled inside my body was a new soul; a new living, breathing soul capable of anything. It would be my main purpose in life to guide this being through his time on Earth. All my past experiences, successes and failures, all my predisposed judgment and all the things I was blind to, would come out in my parenting. With that realization, fear suddenly became ever present in the package of emotions I was now carrying around. This person, untainted then, will grow, think, feel, love, hate, live and, eventually, die. He, like every other human, was born with no inhabitations or judgment, no idea of how his new world would work. Every time I look at the picture sitting in a simple frame, on my simple desk, I take a step outside myself to remember that this life is anything but simple and I allow myself, and my son, to make mistakes and to learn great lessons from them all.

End of the Week, Beginning of English and Fear

This morning as I rushed to get ready for my first English 101 class, Braydon announced that he was not going to school today. Shocked, I stopped and picked him, then asked why. "I'm scared to leave you and I will cry at school today!" What? My fearless student has started to miss me when I'm not around. Touched and startled by the sudden change of heart I simply reminded him of the fun he's had and how nice the teachers and other children are. He was unconvinced, but got ready anyway. A million thoughts raced through my head. That teacher who sounds a little less than compassionate - was she too stern with him? The boy that accidentally kicked Bray when he was in front of his swing - was he actually a bully? The girl who had to hold his hand on the snow cone trip - Bray thought they were friends, but was she mean to him?

I had to shake it off. I know it is just the protective side of mommy that wants to analyze each little incident and make sure no one is any way hurting my child. The teacher are great and Bray said he likes all the kids. But I can't help but think of all the horror that could be. I guess this is the separation anxiety that every child goes through. He just happened to start and the end of the week, rather than the beginning of the first day.

As it turns out, there was no reason to rush this morning. I pulled into the parking lot, checked my schedule to see where the Eng101 class room is, and realized that I had been looking at the wrong class when I saw "Friday at 10:00am". Maybe if there was air conditioning in my car, it wouldn't have been a huge deal, but class isn't actually until 12:20. I was looking at something that doesn't start until September. Braydon was relieved not to have to go to school just then. Hopefully he gets over his fear before it's time to really leave. He will be at school in just enough time to play outside, take a nap and eat a snack. Nap time. Damn it.

In Your Face Nap Time

Very early tonight, Braydon asked me for a bath. The rest of the nights this week he has hid under the table when the dreaded words "It's bath time" fell out of my mouth. He has stood in the tub, hands crossed, face to the tiled wall, in protest of the nightly event. He has dumped handfuls of water at a time on the floor, splashed me during my attempts to wash him, shouted how much of a bad mommy I was being by cleaning him and thrown countless bath toys at me. This is not his typical bath routine, mind you. Before school started we went deep sea diving, mermaid searching and sea shell collecting during baths. But the long nap in the middle of the day has changed our nights drastically.

Shortly after the bath, Braydon came to me with lotion on his hands, asking me to rub it in. The rest of the nights this week he has tried to push my hands away when I tried to rub in the lotion. He has ran and hid in between the wall and the TV, where he knows very well he is not allowed to be. He steped into his pajamas, even doing most of it himself, tonight, instead of the hide-n-seek game he has attempted to play the first three days of this week.

Before I even knew what I was going to cook, Braydon asked me for dinner. The rest of the nights this week he has pushed his plate as far into the middle of the table as he could reach with his tiny arms. He has told me that he doesn't like the food, he's full, or simply "I'm not going to eat". Before school started, he would at least try food, although I can not blame this entirely on the new change because I hear three year old kids are extremely picky eaters. Still, tonight, he ate his dinner and brushed his teeth afterward - another nightly routine he has routinely protested this week.

It is only 7:15 and my son, the bed time routine protester, is sleeping. He has not gone to bed before 9:30 in the last four days, despite his regular bedtime being 8:00, which he is certainly used to by now. I did not have to tell him to do anything, at all. I did not put him to sleep tonight. Tonight, he practically put himself to bed, in a calm and accepting way. Although I have been pulling my hair out for the last 3-4 nights and thinking that this was the beginning to a nightmare, it is clear that situations can change in an instant... just like our beautiful children.

A Week of Preperation

In the last week, I have been non-stop in my quest to prepare for the big day. With a to-do list still staring at me from my bulletin board, it still feels like school is a million days away, when in actuality, tomorrow marks the start of our educational leap.

Saturday, August 15th: The iStartSmart orientation is a new requirement for first year community college students in Maricopa County. The program is designed to prepare new students for school and equip them with organizational methods needed to stay on track in order to graduate. You start out with an online orientation, which I finished weeks ago. The next step is the in person orientation with a group of new students, a director and a few campus ambassadors. At this meeting, we learned about tutoring, academic advisement, clubs/organizations, etc. Nothing I didn't already read about online, still it was nice to meet some people I'd be attending school with. Starting in September I will be attending the third and final step of this program, in the form of a required college success course. The class is five weeks, once a week and one credit. The course description makes me angry. I am 25 years old and have a lot of real work experience. I believe I've mentioned this before, but I got my first job at 13 and have taken care of myself for a long time. In the twelve years I've been employed, I've worked in several different industries, gathering new lessons and talents along the way and leaving each job with a higher knowledge and self expectation than when I started. I see going to school as another new experience and will face it with the same openness that I have stared each new chapter in my life with. However, this required class will cover things I have already acquired, such as time management, organization skills and note taking tips. While I am infuriated by the apparent waste of time and money, I am hopeful that I will leave that room at the end of the five weeks with at least one bit of new information. With a graduation rate of only 14%, the school certainly needs to take some steps in helping students reach their goals.

Sunday I cleaned and re-organizing my apartment (specifically mine and my son's rooms). I'm overwhelmed and this, in addition to making lists, helps me stay focused on what I am working towards.

Monday the 17th, marked my third attempt to get Bray officially enrolled in preschool. The woman I'd been speaking to had given me a whole list of wrong information and was the cause of my having to come down to the school two too many times to do something that should have been done long ago. This time, I called ahead of time to make sure that the director of the preschool was there. I was told by the "other woman" that I couldn't pay the registration fee and receive the forms unless she was present. I was told this in person, when I came to the school to do it, under the advisement of said woman. When I called, the director, a very nice and professional woman, informed me that I do not pay her. Instead I go to the business center and make the payment; something I could have done the last time I was there. Angry and overwhelmed I came in that afternoon and got everything taken care of. I decided to just let it go. What was done, was done and no amount of complaining would change that. Although, I did very nicely let the director know that I was given wrong information on several occasions and that I think perhaps the woman I spoke to was unsure of what needed to be said to the parents. I felt bad, but I had to say something in order to allow myslef to just get over the frustration. It worked.

Tuesday I filled out forms and spent some good quality time playing with my son. There will be so little of it starting tomorrow.

Wednesday I had a parents orientation for the preschool at 2pm. I was told not to bring my son unless absolutely necessary, so I arranged for my sister to watch him for a bit. She lives in an apartment complex in the heart of the ASU area in Tempe. This was the day, apparently, that all the out-of-state freshmen were arriving with there parents and suitcases, and all the on campus residents were moving into their dorms. If you have ever lived or been in a college town on a day like this, you know that the streets and sidewalks are flooded with people. It took me 15 whole minutes to drive one mile. I was glad I was going to a community college near my home and not here. Anywhere, but here. I finally dropped my son off at 5 minutes to 2pm. I was 20 minutes away from where I needed to be. After I made my way out of the sea of college students and just accepted the fact that I was going to be late, I started wondering how vastly different my life would be if I'd gone to a university right out of high school instead of waiting so long. For a brief moment I thought I'd be better off now, but I'd never have met Braydon's father - that I am certain of. Which means I wouldn't be Braydon's mother and no amount of success would be worth that. Changing one step on your life's path can alter the future in a huge way. I couldn't give this thought of "what if" another second of my precious time.

Thursday I got my books! Friday I took my sister to get her books. All weekend I've been cleaning and preparing for what tomorrow morning will bring. I am nervous, excited, scared and happy all at the same time, and I'm loving every second of it.

Nervousness

Welcome, dear nervous feeling. I was wondering when you'd creep up.

These past five months have been filled with paperwork, tests, meetings and school supply shopping. I've kept busy and gone through the motions of everyday life. Now, with just two weeks left and only a few more formalities, I am starting to get that certain feeling in my stomach and heaviness in my heart that tells me a major life change is about to take place. I suppose you call this feeling "nervous". I am not worried about how things will go, or scared that I will fail; however when a change takes place, no matter how prepared I am or how much I welcome the difference in life, I can't help but feel anxious and a bit nervous.

Some changes do bring fear and a uncertainty to my mind. Will I fail? Will this be a mistake? However, starting school and sending Braydon to preschool doesn't feel that way to me. It most certainly isn't a mistake, and I know that I will do everything I can to succeed in my classes, yet still the nervousness is ever present. I was getting ready to go to the school today to complete the preschool registration process for Braydon when the nervousness started to sink in. I couldn't eat breakfast this morning (still haven't) and my heart started to beat harder as I got Braydon dressed. I haven't been able to focus on anything 100% and as I was driving to the school, the palms of my hands got sweaty. It's official, I'm nervous.

The feeling is mostly for Braydon. My first, and only child is about to begin school. This is the first year of many to come, where my baby will be sent off to a classroom and will learn the wonders of education. I will no longer be the only major "teacher" in his life. Sure, he's been cared for by babysitters and our family and friends have had some influence in what he has been taught these first three years, but I have been the main educator in his life. I taught him, among other things, how to walk and talk, how to eat with a fork and use the potty, to share his toys and sing his alphabet. As early as my pregnancy, I have considered the fact that other people will teach my child, and I have viewed it as a positive thing. Obviously he will go to school and learn from a teacher, but there are so many things that I can not teach him that I want him to learn: how to musical instruments, how to surf, to fish, to play sports, etc. I have always known that in order to be a well rounded person, he would need to have a wide array of teachers through out his life. However, now that the dawn is upon us, I am feeling nervous and judgemental.

I have spoken to two different women from the preschool so far. One of the woman is seems confident, clear spoken and professional. The other appears to be the exact opposite. I realize that sending Braydon to the on-campus preschool (or Early Childhood Education Center) means that he will be supervised and taught by students in who are enrolled in the Early Childhood Education program, as well as the director/teachers of those classes. I am OK with that, but for some reason when I was on the phone with this girl, who spoke in a very small voice and stuttered when she answered my questions, I found myself questioning if this was the right choice. I pride myself on not being a judgemental person, but there I was, judging her. I realize that Braydon will encounter all types of people during his life, and I think that is a beautiful thing, but because I have gone through a selection of child care providers, all of whom ending up being a big mistake, I now find myself feeling nervous about who will be caring for my child. There are plenty of other reasons I should be nervous about sending him to school, and starting school myself, but this is what brought it on. For now, I will be keeping an open mind and reminding myself that we are all different, and this quiet, stuttering woman on the phone may be nervous as well.

Financial Aid Awarded

Today I received my financial aid award letter. When I opened the letter and glanced at the estimated cost vs. the aid offered, I nearly lost my mind! I immediately called my sister, who has been attending college for the past few years, without taking the time to read the full document. She assured me that I couldn’t possibly need $17,164 to attend a community college and had me review it again. I noticed that they laid out a budget for room and board, transportation and personal items. “THANK GOD!” I said, as I started to calm down to my normal self. Always read a document in it’s entirety before you come to a conclusion. Classes cost $71/credit and books, if I buy them used should only be about $50 each. I’ll need to factor in the cost of preschool, which is astonishingly low. The school is close and I doubt I’ll need $2,574 for transportation, as the letter indicated. Since room and board and personal expenses are already covered by other means, $2,675 per semester should do it. I’m not sure why, but I expected I’d need a lot more. Hopefully there aren’t some hidden costs of school that I am unaware of. Do I see a laptop in my near future?

School Supply Lists

In an effort to save potential readers the overwhelming despair I felt standing in the school supply isle, lost in a sea of soccer moms, below is a list of some necessities for going back to school that I have gathered. You'll find a general list for college and pre-school. I’d love to get a list for elementary and high school, but in all honestly I don’t have time for that, what with a three year old tugging on my shirt at this very moment!

From late July to early August, stores everywhere have great deals on everything related to back to school you can imagine. You can also purchase items at the campus bookstore; however the cost will typically be higher. You may also choose to shop online, if you’re not up for the crowds during this season of deals. Office supply stores such as Staples, Office Max and Office Depot have great deals this time of year, with websites that are easy to navigate. Hope this helps!

College
Notebooks - I suggest one for each class
Folders - for hand outs & print outs
Binder
Printer paper
Pens and/or pencils
Lead refills or pencil sharpener
Highlighters
Stapler and staples – for multiple page assignments
Paperclips
Tape (not sure when I’ll actually need this for class, but I will certainly let you all know when I come across a situation.)
Calculator – certain classes may require a specific type of calculator (i.e. graphing). Check with your professor if you are unsure.
Reference books such as a dictionary & thesaurus –
Day planner/Organizer
Backpack - this is a personal choice. I know people who carry their books to class, running out to their car to swap their English material for their math. You may choose a standard backpack, a messenger bag, or (for the ladies) a purse. Personally, I will be bringing a purse I purchased from Barnes and Nobel that fits my books and notebooks perfectly.
Computer or laptop – some schools require students to have a computer, while others provide a computer lab; however if possible, it is best to own one for doing research and typing assignments. You will also need a printer and a way to connect to the internet. As a suggestion, flash drives and/or CDs are great for transferring files or keeping back-up. If you are a parent going to college, I’d suggest you invest in a lap top if possible. This way you can utilize time out with your child, say at the park, to work on your class assignments.
Work Space – if you already have a home office or a desk, then you’ve got this covered. If not, then it would be great to set up an area where you can work on assignments and keep items such as a stapler, hole punch, trash can, post-its, back-up notebooks, etc. If this isn’t in your budget, put all your supplies in a box or container of some sort and store it near the table where you can pull out what you need when you need it.


Pre-School
Because each preschool varies in their policies and preschool age children do not need too many items, you will need to check with the head of your child’s preschool to find out what you should bring, and what they prefer you do not send your child to school with. You may also want to stock up on some at home supplies to help your child practice what he/she has learned during the day. Here is a list of some items you may need to pick up, whether you use them for class or “homework”.

Backpack
Labels or tags – in preschool, as well as day cares, children need to label all of their belongings
Folder – for paper hand outs
Pencil pouch or box
Pencils and erasers
Crayons
Preschool safe scissors
Lunch box – you may also want to pick up a sandwich container, a snack bowl with a lid and a water bottle. Yes, these add to the cost, but when the year is over, you will have spent more on zip lock bags and individually wrapped snacks and drinks (in addition to the amount of waste)
A change of clothes – most preschools require that your child is potty trained; however kids this age can still have accidents and you don’t want your child to be left without something clean to change into if this happens. (On that note, be on the look out for an upcoming blog about getting your pre-school child ready for using the potty in class!)
A box of tissues or baby wipes
A special personal item such as a photo or stuffed animal – check with the teacher to make sure this is allowed

If I find that either of us need something not on this list, I'll you all know! Happy shopping!