...That is the question.
I get up every morning and despite our very best efforts, there's still some rushing around to get the kids (and Adam) off to the bus (and work.) Sometimes I have lunches to pack (because I failed to do it the night before) or socks to find or shoes to tie. Sometimes I have prizes to hand out (like this morning, but that's a blog for another day...) No matter how the morning starts, the second The Hobbit and I come back, there's a feeling of great relief.
And we've got this thing down. We've got our routine. I know his every sound. I know when he needs to go play in his room with his trains and when he needs me to be Jessie to his Buzz and Woody. I know that when he runs around going "catch me!" it's usually going to be followed by an announcement that he has to go to the bathroom and "Don't watch me, Mommy." (No argument here, buddy.)
I'm cheerleader to his bounding track star as he runs laps through the (very small) house. I'm his chef, taking into account every little allergy he's got and preparing food accordingly. Sometimes I'm the principal and he gets a much needed time out.
We keep each other entertained. I mean look at this rousing round of kitchen floor hockey we played with a rubber ball and a wooden stick.
It was rousing, I tell you.
The bottom line is, we really don't do preschool. I've always taught our kids here. They enter kindergarten reading and writing and I purposely look at first grade stuff so I can jam that into that brains too. (I'm gentle about it, I swear.)
But this guy...
Well, he's got me thinking about preschool. Don't get me wrong, I would be lonely and miss him more than anything, but seriously, when he tells me "Mom, I like Max and Ruby. They're my friends" I start to get a little worried for him. And sad. And he won't stay in his class at church.
I know every kid is different and when my new Colorado friend Liz told me about her daughter's preschool, I started to seriously think maybe Sam needs it.
So, I have a question for you. Did you (do you) send your kids to preschool? If so, was it a decision made by necessity or by choice? See, we don't have to send him since I stay home, but what if he would actually benefit from it? And why am I so hesitant to let anyone else teach my kids at this age? Do I secretly want to hoard all their love and affection because I know when they get to the tween years I won't get much?
Because parting with my Hobbit...well, that's not gonna be easy.