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August 16, 2002
Well, we've completed week one of Head Start Preschool. Aaron loves it. He knows his teachers name--Ms. Torres. He enjoys his class. Everyday when we pick him up, we ask what he learned today. He always answers "I learned about God." I know he didn't. It's state funded, but it's cute to me that he answers that. Wes calls it his patented Sunday School answer.
(I can't remember when I last wrote or what I wrote, so please forgive me if I repeat a story.) Last Friday, Aaron and I got up a little early--Kirk is out of school, so we've been sleeping late--and got dressed for his Head Start orientation. I fixed his hair--he loves to have it styled and sprayed--and we left Wes with the other two. While we were in the bathroom getting ready, I explained to Aaron that we were going to meet his teacher, but he wouldn't be staying at school. He cried. He really wanted to GO TO SCHOOL. We went and while the parents had a meeting, the kids got to play in one of the class rooms. Aaron had a blast. He didn't get upset when it was time to go, either. All weekend we talked about how he would be going to school on Monday. I'd ask "Who's going to school on Monday?" He'd answer "Me!" I'd ask "What are you doing Monday?" He'd answer "Go to School." Actually he'd answer "Ummm, go to Georgia." I'd say "No." "Ummm, go to grandma's house." "No." "Ummm, go to school." "Yes!" I guess that just shows how much he loves his grandma and his family in Georgia.
Monday morning, I woke up and went into the Kids' room. I climbed onto the top bunk where Aaron was sleeping and whispered "Who wants to go to school?" Aaron grumbled something and rolled over. (This was not the response I expected. I expected the Christmas morning popping up in bed and replying "Me!") After some prodding we decided that I'd make his breakfast and then he'd get up. Aaron ate, got dressed, got his hair fixed, grabbed his backpack and we were gone. We arrived at school early and waited with the others for the doors to open. Aaron played with some ants on the ground--they were his "babies" and he got them a "toy": a leaf that blocked their path a confused the two of them for a few minutes.
I decided I better explain to Aaron that today was not going to be like Friday. I told him that I would not be staying with him, but I would come back and pick him up after lunch. He cried. (If not popping up out of bed was unexpected this blew me away. For as long as Aaron's been able to talk and for as long as he has known that Kirk gets to do things he doesn't, he's talked about going to school. Now he says he doesn't want to go.) Aaron tells me he want to stay with me and go to the store. (Going to the store was not part of my plan for the day, so this was completely his idea.) I told him "You've been talking about going to school for years. Don't you want to go now?" "No, I was talking about shoes." Thirty seconds later he was fine. To make a long story a little less long...Aaron had a great day. He loves school. He's painted, drawn, read, played. He's in three-year-old heaven.
I hesitate to say it, but I will anyway. Be sure when you read this to knock on wood for me. Okay? All my children are potty trained. That's right. ALL my children are potty trained! I've got to write that one more time. ALL MY CHILDREN ARE POTTY TRAINED!!!!! That feels so good. Of course now someone will regress. Aaron has not had an accident in weeks. We haven't used a Pull-Up in as long. I thought this diary entry would never come.
I have two Anne stories to tell. Do you know Spanish? Anne does, or at least she thinks she does. After watching Dora the Explorer, she uses--I can't spell these--vominose, hola, abre. As best I can tell, they are come on or hurry up, hi, and open. She uses vominose in the correct context, but hola she uses for backpack and abre, she uses for stop or wait. She's learning Spanish in theory, but not practically.
We live in the desert. All summer the highs have been in the 100's. Today was 108. We also live on a giant ant hill. The complex is sprayed for bugs twice a month and we spray often. Still, there are ants everywhere. One day Anne was sitting on the floor playing quietly. In our house, quite usually means bad, so of course Wes checks on her. She's squishing ants with her index finger. She smiles up to her daddy and exclaims. "I won!"
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