Oh my - I'm telling you something, Connor tries my patience like NO OTHER!
I knew it was going to be a bad morning. Watch the video - you'll see.
Yes, it was open house - the day to introduce Connor to his preschool teacher, his new school, playground, etc. I knew before we went he was going to be a royal pain in the a**. But I prayed I was wrong. Miracles DO happen occasionally.
Truth be told, he was actually ok when we were in the preschool. Granted, he wouldn't talk to the teacher, wouldn't really mind me worth squat and wouldn't have anything to do with the nice bag of treats she had for him (thankfully, he didn't tear that apart in front of her. No, he waited until we were in the cafeteria surrounded by the ENTIRE St. John's staff and families to do that). But he didn't throw a fit. Yet.
Anyway - we left his classroom and proceeded to take the girls over to say hi to their friends, teachers, etc. It was time to sign up for homeroom parties (yes, I signed up to help with all, even though I will have a newborn.) It was time to sign up to volunteer at the annual school auction (yes, I signed up to help with that too). That's just me. It was time to try on new St. John's shirts, say hello to other parents, talk about our summers and enjoy a nice morning.
That is, until we factored Connor into the morning.
No, Connor proceeded to scream, throw a fit on the gym floor, run outside almost into the parking lot and (like I mentioned before) tear his treat bag into shreds. I wanted to hide in a hole. I wanted to take him and, well, I'll stop there. Let's just say I wanted NOTHING to do with him.
But I ignored him. Do you really think I'm going to run after a tantrum-making 3 year old carrying his 30-pound sister in my frontside? Although Abby and Keely kept telling me, "Mom, Connor is racing through the halls crying. Mom, Connor is trying to run outside. Mom, Connor is screaming that he wants to go home..." I could go on but you get the picture.
Then, he must have remembered that I told him if he was good I would take him to get a play lawnmower so he could mow the lawn with his dad. A little light must have gone off in his head - and all of a sudden, the annoying, fake and loud cry ceased - instantly, mind you.
"Mom," he said in the meekest, sweetest voice he could muster,"do I still get a lawnmower?"
"WHAT?&^(@*#(@#_)???? Um, no, Connor, you don't. You haven't been good since we left the house."
His response? "But I'm not crying now."
Oh Good God. Is he for real?
So now he is in his room. No lawnmower. No snack. If that kid knows what is best for him he will stay clear of me for at least a little longer.
Am I sad he is going to school? Um, do you need to ask that question?
I answer with a VERY emphatic NO! Cant he start school today? All day? Every day?
Lots of love!