Yesterday there was a lot of rushing around, gathering things together, and filling out forms. We SHOULD have opened the pre-first-day-of-school instructional packet before Sunday night but somehow it got left behind with the multitude of other things on our endless to-do lists. It isn't like us to leave something so important to the last minute but these things happen. In any case, we (mostly Matthew) filled out forms about Simon's behavior and his health and what he likes and how he sleeps. Matthew did an excellent job of filling out the forms. When Hava read them milk nearly sprayed out of her nose. It would have if she had been drinking milk. Since we don't get these forms back, we scanned them in for our future enjoyment.

So this morning we woke up determined not to let Simon know that Hava was up worrying at 3:30 am or that Matthew's stomach was in knots. We were our cheerful-ish selves and Matthew deposited him at school without a glimmer of his fear for the pain and suffering that might befall him - probably the youngest two year old in his class (and most likely the tallest). Clearly we are temporarily insane and we do know this but it is hard not to imagine the worst things about school, multiply them by a thousand, and then multiply that by an even larger sum to account for the emotional loss of near constant parental attention.

Matthew took Simon on the longest short train ride of his life to preschool just after 8 am. He stayed while Simon played for about an hour, until 9:30, slowly being less and less interesting until the breadsticks and apple juice appeared and Daddy in the corner was a distant memory. Three members of Simon's class (the Blue Guppies) cried the entire time Matthew was present which put Simon a little on edge. One two year old was so distraught that he had to be removed. A girl was still crying when Matthew returned at 12:30. Our boy was, of course, braver than we allowed ourselves to hope. Simon really is ready for preschool. Ahhhh...