My son’s preschool experience lasted all of four days before I decided to pull him out.
I know, I know. I am soft as a mother, I didn’t give him a chance to warm up, he would have been fine after a while… but what if he hadn’t have been alright? What then? Here are the reasons why I decided to pull my son out of preschool:
I was not ready. This is probably the least significant of all my reasons. Yes, I was a HOT MESS after drop-off the first day. Yes, I wrote a blog about how devastated I was. Yes, every day on the way to school I felt so incredibly sad. I am a grown woman! Ha! I would have eventually adjusted.
I successfully sent three girls, (some screaming and crying) to preschool and we all survived. I honestly was not ready for him to go, but I was willing to let go.
He cried at drop-off, but it was not the usual screaming and crying. During the second day of drop-off, he held his tears in like a grown person holds their’s back, and when he could not fake it anymore, the tears would stream down his face. It was heavy to me; it was as if he was trying his hardest to be happy, but he just could not. It really bothered me, (even more than the screaming and crying).
During the day, I would call to check on him. At times, he was playing by himself, or he was having a sad moment. Don’t get me wrong, there were times when I called, and he was okay, but there were more periods of sadness than not.
He did not need to be in preschool for any specific reason. I figured because all his sisters went into school at 2 1/2 to 3 years old, that he should too. There was really no concrete reason for him to go, besides following the tradition. I am a stay-at-home mom, I have a nanny, and my husband works from home; he didn’t need to be there, he was just fine at home.
You may think, “Boo-hoo, get over it, mom.” But my decision to take Kashius out of preschool was solidified after talking it out.
During the last few days of preschool, he would act weird when I picked him up. On the car ride home, he would not talk to me until he realized we were taking the exit to our home. This struck me as odd and bothered me. On the fourth day of school, I went to pick him up. I looked through the window of his classroom, and he was crying. He noticed me and immediately ran to me and then soon his smile disappeared. I picked him up, and he laid his head on my shoulder and wouldn’t look at anyone. When we got in the car, he was silent. When we took the exit, he was silent. When we walked into the house, he was still silent. He was withdrawn for about 15 minutes, and then he finally warmed up and started talking.
This. Broke. My. Heart. I am pretty much crying as I write.
He was not happy. It was as if he had been traumatized and carried that feeling home. This was NOT okay with me. I talked to my husband, my nanny Ms. Whitney, (who was a preschool teacher at that very school) and a few close friends. After talking to them about it, I decided to take Kashius out of preschool. I felt SO GUILTY. He could have eventually adjusted. He could have been okay… but, what if he never adjusted? Was I doing the right thing?
The next day, around the time that Kash was due to get dropped off, I called the school, and the director answered. I was so nervous to tell her what I had decided to do. I felt like a punk. I explained how I was feeling and she replied,
“I completely understand, and I respect your decision. You are doing the right thing.”
We talked for a while. She told me Kashius reminded her of her son and how he
“just wasn’t ready for preschool and needed one more year to grow.”
She explained how she kept her son home an additional year and how it was the best thing she could have done for him. She then told me I was doing the very best thing for Kashius. I thanked her for understanding, and as soon as I hung up, I started crying my eyes out. I was relieved; I felt validated, and I was thankful that God had allowed me to be able to keep my baby home for one more year. My little guy has my heart. Every day when I dropped him off at preschool, my heart went with him and didn’t return until he was back with me.
I have my heart back.
Later that day, Kashius was sitting on the couch drinking milk, and I told him he wasn’t going to school anymore. He stopped drinking his drink and simply leaned over, kissed me on the lips and returned to his milk.
At that very moment, I knew I had made the right decision.