First day September 8, 2008

Today was a half hour open house at the nursery school, with parents. A was supposed to go with Gatito, and we’d been telling him that for weeks, but an unforeseen work thing arose for A late last week so Gatito was stuck with me. Of course, I wanted to go with Gatito, but I hated that he had been promised Dad and did not get him. Part of me is upset with A, since I think there is always something important going on at work and that we, as working parents, need to show our kids that they nevertheless come first, and that we keep our promises. I think one lesson to learn from this is not to be so specific with Gatito about plans so far in advance, if we can help it. That said, he did not seem too upset.

There are (gasp) 19 kids in Gatito’s class, and three teachers. Is it just me or is this an awfully high student-teacher ratio? It’s only one more kid than I was expecting when I signed him up last year, but it sure seems like a lot. I’d have been more comfortable with 12 kids and 2 teachers because 18 seems like a recipe for chaos. But the teachers are all lovely. One in particular seems very sweet, like your ideal nursery school teacher. Gatito was nervous and at one point, standing near the train table, his little lower lip went out and he started to cry. He wouldn’t tell me why at the time, but when I asked him again when I got home from work this afternoon, he very clearly articulated that another boy had taken his train. To be clear, this boy was at the table first, was on the other side of the table, and was not at all aggressive. He didn’t take anything from Gatito, and there were plenty of trains available, but he must have taken something Gatito had his eye on. I guess learning to work this stuff out (ask for it, take turns, choose another toy) is exactly what preschool is for.

I realized I have fallen down on one major duty, no pun intended. While Gatito has been potty trained for six months, I’ve never even asked him to wipe his own bottom. (In my defense, I actually very rarely get the poops– either they happen when Tata is on duty– hehe, there I go again– or he demands Dad.) And although I knew the school won’t change diapers (apparently they cannot legally do this) or deal with poop accidents (they call the parents to come deal if that happens), I didn’t quite realize that the kids would be expected to use the potty completely independently. No one to help them with their pants and definitely no one to wipe them. They said they just tell them to do their best. Yikes. I am guessing, knock on wood, that Gatito will never poop there, and may never even pee there, but A and Tata and I have some work to do in helping Gatito to learn independent potty usage.

Wednesday they have a half of a half day with half the class, and I’m taking the day off so I can take him and pick him up and attend the parent orientation in the meantime. I’ve realized that there are a few little things I can do to make myself feel better about being a working mom, and this is one of them. I can be there for him and still work a full-time job. A and I have also decided that every other week one of us will take him to school one of the days that we don’t have early meetings. He’ll get a parent dropping him off one day a week, we’ll get a little face time with the teachers (and time with Gatito), and we’ll only be a half hour late to work.

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I think I have transferred my the magical properties with which I imbued the stick to the fact of charting. I think I subconsciously believe that if I just work a little harder, I will get pregnant. As though knowing precisely when I ovulate will make a difference. As though we haven’t already, for the past four months, been doing the one thing that creates a pregnancy in fertile people. If I get my period in two weeks I am definitely scheduling an appointment.

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