Big Plans for Tomorrow

1. Waffles! We've been out since Wednesday, so we're in Breakfast Crisis Mode.
2. Make red potato and asparagus salad for a friend, pack it and send it off with another friend (who's on delivery duty).

3. Haircut for Mr. Boy! (Lookin' like a hippie)

4. Going for a drive...

If Iain were awake, he'd add: WATCH KIPPA DA DOG! And yes, since tomorrow is Saturday, we'll be watching some Kipper.

Today was a good day at school for both of us. Iain had to go in early, because of my teaching schedule. I vacillated all week between going in a little later (thus sacrificing good parking) so Iain could get to school at a reasonable hour, or going in at the usual time and just dropping him there early. Sometimes, early in the morning, school is a little depressing. He doesn't like it. So I'd almost made up my mind to let him sleep, go in later, and accept the bad parking.

But Iain obviated my choice. He woke at 4:45, screaming like mad for help. I went in, and found him wanting his blankie (right there in the crib, dude!). He cried for about 30 minutes, then slept again. My alarm rang at 6. Joy.

By 6:15 Iain was awake and making noise. So I figured, "ok, if he's up we might as well go to school." He told me, "Bad dream." Me, too. Must have been something in the air last night.

We left at 7, and I tried to talk Iain into a good day while we drove. I encouraged him to get a sticker, I asked him to be a good boy, I praised his recent string of good days...Finally, I gently prepared him for his early arrival at daycare (Miss Donna gets to work at 9). I said, "You'll get to see Miss Joyce, do you love Miss Joyce?" and he said (I swear): "Everyone loves Miss Joyce."

Oh.

When we arrived, at 7:25, Iain looked through the glass and realized that all the big kid toys (read: trucks) were there but no big kids had yet arrived. Unsupervised toys! No competition! He went straight in, not a glance back at Mommy, no fussing. I fled.

And our luck held. He had a good day, ate well*, slept well, and got a sticker (with a pig on it).



*Speaking of "ate well," check this out: yesterday Iain refused to eat at school. The menu? coleslaw, fish sticks, green beans, and then steak taquitos for snack. Today the menu posted in the hall said the menu was Cobb salad. But they actually served hot dogs. Does any of that sound like toddler food? Not to me.

When I talk to Iain about our impending move, sometimes I tell him about his new school. I say, "I'll pack your lunch every day. It'll be Iain's lunch in Iain's lunch box and no one else can touch it. And you can have what you want and nothing you don't like [like meat]." He listens, rapt.