We got your first report card last week. It was full of S’s and D’s. “Skilled” and “Developing”. You’re doing well, great vocab. Apparently you can not string 5 large beads (who knew that was on the test?) and of course the potty training is still in the works. But otherwise, you’re doing great at being 2.
It’s funny the little things you come home saying or singing, like the theme song to Batman. Or your latest directive, which is “no talking”. Now this one, I take a little offense at. Suddenly, you do not like me singing and if you are to tolerate my singing, you make demanding requests for the ABCs. No other songs allowed, harrumph. And here I was just coming out of my singing shell. Am I embarrassing you already?
One of the best parts of the day is picking you up from school. Almost always, you all are out on the playground. There are kids galore and somewhere amongst the hoodie sweatshirts and pink bows is a little boy with blond hair and a dirty face covered in snot.
I try to sneak onto the playground most days so that I can spy on you for a few moments and see you in your element. For as soon as you see me, you run into my arms and you do not let go. Of course, this is the highlight. But as soon as I arrive, your arms are around my neck and I am not allowed to put you down for fear I might actually leave you there again, twice in one day.
The teachers call your name or even better, one of the little kids pokes you and tells you your mommy is here. The kids are very good at this. They know everyone’s mommy or daddy or they do not hesitate to let you know someone is here for you.