Preschool is a wonderful thing. I am one of those people that hates being late, so we arrived at the school about 15 minutes early the first couple days (even earlier today so the kids could play on the playground for a while before going in). By the time Jeremy's teacher opened his classroom door, he was so ready to get in there and play he just ran right in without ever looking back. He wanted to be in school just like Megan. He didn't realize, or maybe didn't care, that I couldn't follow him into the classroom. Megan was the only one who was sad. As we were walking away she told me, "I'm sad for Jeremy because he doesn't have a sister in there to play with." Cute. But I don't think he's worried about that right now.
A friend picked him up from school (we're carpooling with a friend) and according to her, Jeremy's teacher said he did great. No problems.
Same thing happened with Megan. By the time her classroom door opened she was ready and just ran her little butt in there. Jeremy was a little sad and wanted to go in with her, mostly because of the sandbox in her classroom that keeps calling out to him, "Jerrrrremy! Come get dirty! Come throw my sand all over the classroom floor, Jerrrrremy!"
So far my kids are loving it, they are doing well, and they are happy. But the best part of preschool, other than having someone who knows how to teach, teaching them is, the first day after dropping Jeremy off I came home with the idea to clean the house. Megan wanted watermelon and I told her I didn't want to make a mess in the kitchen until the whole house was clean. She went downstairs, I thought to watch PBS (we finally sprang the $8 for basic cable). About ten minutes later she called to me, "Mom! Come see what I did!" I walked downstairs to the basement and found it completely clean. Every toy was picked up and placed exactly where it goes. It was cleaned the way I would have cleaned it. I was so excited I immediately began asking her, "Do you want any fruit snacks? Chocolate milk? Candy? Let me get you whatever your little heart desires." Then she helped me clean up the kitchen. Then she picked up every single toy in the living room and put them away. Bliss. Absolute bliss.
Preschool does wonderful things. Jeremy is even learning how to clean up. Jeremy does not clean. Unless it's his hands, the boy won't do it. You can beg, threaten, or try to move his hands and fingers to grasp toys and put them away, but he will not do it. He got a stamp on his hand yesterday--for CLEANING UP THE TOYS. Who knew? I'll cover his hand with stamps if the kid will do it here at home.