T Minus Thirteen Days

I was ready. I had packed everything I thought I would need for the approximately 18 hour preschool “camp out.” I drove to the school at about 4:00 PM. It was an hour and a half earlier than the earliest arrivals last year. I felt good. I felt like I had a superb shot of getting Griffin into this preschool.

I confidently approached the lines that were forming outside of the entrance to the preschool, carrying a beer. As I reached the lines, I noticed I was met with stares. I wondered why and then realized it was the beer. I scanned the crowd and noticed no one else was drinking. OH MY GOSH! What was I thinking? No one else is drinking. I sheepishly smiled as I hid the beer behind my handbag.

I noticed two lines had already formed. I wondered to myself why were there two lines? Also, why are there SO many people here already? I had planned to be the first. I contemplated for the longest time which line to get in. Getting in the wrong long could be disastrous. It could mean the difference of Griffin getting into preschool and not. No one seemed helpful. The moms just shrugged their shoulders and would not answer me which was the right line. I finally picked one praying I had not made a mistake. I counted the number of moms in line ahead of me. There were SIXTY. I could not believe it. I had prepared. I thought I was early. There was no way there would be an opening by the time I reached the front of the line once registration started. I decided to stay and stick it out. I thought t was worth a shot.

I do not remember much about the events of the actual camp out. I remember that by the time the sun arose I looked exhausted, stressed, and completely disheveled. The line began moving at about 10:00 AM. We all anxiously awaited our turn. When my name was finally called, I approached the desk. The preschool staff person asked, “What class are you wanting to enroll in?” “I quickly answered, “Two year old class, Tuesday/Thursday.” She blankly stared at me. I repeated it again. And then again. She just looked at me and said NOTHING. With each time I repeated my request, my anxiety rose. It rose until I woke up. It was just a dream. I mean, it was just a nightmare.

Two weeks from today, Griffin will know his early education fate. Thirteen days from now my camp out begins. This dream I had last week was most likely precipitated by the fact that the registration process for the “General Public” at Nolan’s school was held last Tuesday. As I dropped Nolan off that morning, I saw the moms pacing the floors, scanning the crowds and “competition” and anxiously waiting for their number to be called and to learn the educational fate of their child. That was me three and a half years ago. I was one of them. I still am one of them. I am just not one of them for that preschool. We have our reserved spot in that program. I paid my hefty registration fee that, ironically, I hope will be wasted. Time will tell.

The good news is that James has decided to camp out the entire time so I do not have to do it! (Everyone can stop laughing now, including myself) Well he may not be camping out, but he will have the boys. My mom has agreed to “tag team” line duty with me part of the time. It will be OK. I just hope the weather cooperates. I am not sure of the “rules” for how this works if the weather is bad. Considering all these parents are in the same boat, I would imagine we could come to some sort of agreement about camping in our cars, etc.

I just need to remember it is not appropriate to bring beer.