Free Preschool!

I take the boys to the park at least two mornings per week.  There are two parks in my neighborhood, but there are never any kids at either one.  I can't take Andy to a park without children; then I get roped into actually having to interact him as opposed to just sitting on a bench with the baby, which is the vision I'd constructed for myself when I first dreamed up the life of Stay At Home Mom. The vision of Stay At Home Mom involved me doing lots of sitting, and I have to say I'm disappointed in the actual amount of sitting I get to do, because the numbers aren't exactly adding up in my favor.  So, if there are no kids around, I have to go down the slide, crawl through the tunnels, and assist in batting away all the bees.  I can tell you, I'm not interested in doing any of this.  Plus, I really am no fun, and Andy grows tired of me after a short time.  He squints off into the sun and asks forlornly, "Friends?"

To solve this problem, I found two parks that usually have kids at them.  Both require a ten minute drive, which is fine, since that's ten extra minutes of sitting I can count on.  The first is Park District A.  This park's pretty good.  There's usually a handful of other kids there, and it's not nearly as bee infested as the ones in our neighborhood.  These are two good qualities in a park.  The other park, Park District B, is the park I really hit the jackpot with, though.  This park is shaded, fenced in, right near the Metra line, and across the street from a school or bus depot or something that always has a parking lot filled with yellow school buses.  The passing choo-choos and yellow buses would be enough to make this Park Of The Year in Andy's book- but it gets even better.  This park is always jam packed with kids because the park district has day care and preschool classes that come outside to play in it.  It's kid heaven.

I feel like a sucker for actually paying for Andy's upcoming preschool experience since he's basically been getting free preschool at Park District B.  I caught onto the schedule pretty quick and have seamlessly helped insert Andy into the two year old class that comes out every day at 9:30 to play.  We get there around 9:20 and play idly for about ten minutes, trying to act as casual as possible, as if our presence at that particular time is just mere coincidence.  The two year old day care group rolls out at 9:30.  There are about fifteen kids and three teachers.  At least the original group is fifteen kids- after Andy joins their line, there's sixteen.

Andy runs and plays with all the two year olds and has become such a part of their class that the teachers all know his name.  "Look, friends!" the teacher might say without a detectable trace of sarcasm, "It's our new friend, Andy!"  Andy will edge closer to the teacher, look up, and reply, "Yellow bus.  Big yellow bus.  Up and down.  Beep beep!"  Up and down refers to what the people on the bus do.  You know, they go up and down, up and down.

He has his favorite friends there- a cute little peanut of a boy named Quincy that Andy enjoys hugging and kissing, even if Quincy's body language reveals that he's not as interested in all this PDA as Andy is.  There's another kid, Colton, who does not speak but only growls.  I kind of like that Colton kid- his growls are very expressive.  And then there's Madison, whom Andy seems to think is cute, but is more attracted to baby Alex.  The first of many girls who will prefer the brother who doesn't prefer her, I'm sure.  Madison stands very close to me when I am holding Alex.  So close that I have knocked her over on accident a few times while backing up or stepping forward, unaware that she was lurking in my shadow.  The teachers at the preschool have rolled with this.  Park District B really hired some flexible, nice young ladies- teachers who are very accepting of a rambunctious boy who joins their class, uninvited and unpaid, for half hour a day and that rambunctious boy's mother who offers a smile that is only marginally apologetic when she knocks over one of the paying kids.

The last time we were having Free Preschool Time, though, Andy may have gone a little too far.  The teachers brought out Kleenex and juice for the kids.  I lost track of Andy for a few minutes only to discover him sitting on the bench, drinking their juice and wiping his face with about six Kleenexes.  "Andy!" I hissed, running over and pushing little Madison down in my haste. "That's not your juice!  Or your Kleenex!  Stop that!"  Andy's response was a look of confusion.  I could almost hear him ask, "Well, gee Mom, am I part of this preschool or not??"

The answer is no, Andy.  We are merely squatters during play time.  We have no right to the juice or Kleenex.

Soon it will no longer be park weather, though,and I will have to find another group of kids for Andy to horn in on when the preschool deems it too cold to come out and play.  The library works pretty good for that, although at the library, Andy tends to butt his way into families, which seems slightly more unacceptable than an organized group of unrelated children.  He becomes a family's third child before they're even aware of what's going on, and is quick to grab puzzle pieces from one of their kids while simultaneously referring to the father as "Daddy."

Oh well.  We probably have at least another six weeks or so of park weather, anyway.  I will bring my own juice and Kleenex for the next class.