Preschool

So yesterday was Margaret's first actual day of preschool. She was supposed to start on Tuesday, but she ran a fever from Sunday to Tuesday afternoon, so she had to miss that glorious first day. I also missed the consignment sale I was going to go to (no kids allowed the first day), but it wasn't that big a deal. I'll get maternity clothes elsewhere.

So I have been relieved that M. had only a fever, but she seemed to feel ok. She wasn't sleeping well at night (well, not between 2 and 6 am anyway), but she was taking naps well, and actually asked to go to bed on Monday night when she just melted down during dinner. So on Tuesday afternoon, her fever seemed to break, and she was better. But Thursday, she had a few bumps on her face that seemed like mosquito bites, but nothing too bad. We all have a million bites from the evil beasts. Thank you to the train company for blocking up the creek across the street and turning our neighborhood into mosquito breeding central.

I digress. I left for preschool early on Thursday because I didn't know what traffic would be like, but I deliberately tried NOT to leave too early (like at 7:30 when she's supposed to be there by 8:30) because I was trying not to be a freak. I had dressed M. in a t-shirt and cotton pants, since I had no idea what kids wore to school, and I wanted her to be prepared for whatever messes, falling down, etc. there might be. She had done really well at the open house last Friday and really liked one of the teachers, introducing her to Ding (her naked beanie baby that she loves), and playing with toys without really noticing that I was even there. So I was very hopeful.

But I had been telling her all morning and the day before about preschool, and she kept saying "Mommy come with Margaret." I kept telling her I would bring her there, but that I would leave and come back later. She didn't seem too happy with this idea, but she didn't complain about it. But when we got to school, she clung to me immediately, so I showed her all of the fun stuff in the room, and her cubby, and all the kids. She wanted to read books, of course, because that's what she wants to do all the time, especially when she's stressed. So I told her I was going to leave, and she started to cry. And I nearly started crying, but I figured that wouldn't help her at all, so I left, and cried all the way in the car. I managed to stop crying when I got to Starbusck's, which I decided I needed to have.

I fought the urge to go back to her school and peek in on her during the day, but I did get to school 15 minutes early, and as soon as she saw me I knew she had been crying recently. And her face was way splotchier than it had been when I left. The teachers said she asked for me several times, wouldn't feed herself (they had to feed her), and cried through lunch. It made me very sad!! But I want her to have this experience because I think it will be better for her to have something stable when the baby comes, better for me to get ready for the baby, and better for all of us when I can get some rest with the newborn. But oh, how I wanted to keep her with me forever when I saw her. It's making me cry right now just thinking about it.

Of course, when we got home, I inspected her more closely, and her whole face is covered with little bumps, and her torso, and her butt, and her legs. I think she has/had roseola. It's one of those things where kids get a fever for a few days, then a couple of days later, a rash appears. For some reason, I thought she might have already had it, but it seems that's what she had. Of course, I feel bad bringing her to school while she was developing that rash, but I think it's supposed to be no longer contagious once the rash appears. I kept her under quarantine during the fever, so maybe she isn't Typhoid Margaret.

Anyway, she's still the same Margaret...a little slow to adjust to new things, but I think after a couple of weeks, she'll get used to the teachers, and the classroom, and the routine, and it will be ok. But now I feel a bit guilty that her first preschool experience is such a long day instead of the 3-hour mother's morning out everyone else does. I know I'm being overprotective, since lots of kids do great in daycare, but I have to obsess about something, right?