Slacker Preschool Mom

I strongly suspect that my son’s preschool teacher thinks I’m a slacker. Because I forgot when it was picture day. And I didn’t know he was supposed to wear his Halloween costume this week. And I didn’t know that he was supposed to bring in a roll of toilet paper for a craft.

But, HEY! I remembered to send a bag of pretzels for the Halloween Party!

Here’s the deal: if this had been my eldest child in preschool, I’d be reading all of the emails and newsletters. I’d be prepared and up on all of this stuff. But he’s not my eldest. I also have a Freshman in high school and a sixth grader. This means that life is UNBELIEVABLY busy. Cross country, marching band (and oh. my. word. marching band is so very time consuming), Wednesday church, three thousand hours of homework each week…

I’m not sending my 4yo to preschool to learn his letters or numbers or to learn to write his name. I’m sending him to preschool so that I can get my roots colored every four weeks because I’m old and to therapy because I’m dealing with depression.

Thank you for trying to teach my 4yo things, lovely preschool teacher. I’m sorry that I don’t remember and do all the things I should, lovely preschool teacher.

But, he’s not my first child and I no longer have things to prove. I’m too busy trying to carve out 20 minutes of quiet alone time to worry about his preschool experience.

Sad? Maybe.

True? Absolutely.

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