Bye Bye, Baby

Dear Laney,

A few months ago, your dad and I had a talk and decided that we needed to find you a preschool. You're interested in everything, want to do everything yourself, and remember everything we tell you. It seems you are only limited by what we're able to expose you to, so we needed to get on with the business of exposing you to more. I'm sure every parent thinks their child is exceptional, but they're wrong and we're right.

I toured several schools, and - on the outside - asked pointed questions about curriculums and meal plans and teacher experience. On the inside, I would ponder to myself, "If Laney loses her mind one day and turns this place out, how much will it cost me to replace this particular room's carpet, wall paint, and shelving?"

I took you with me to one school in particular, and when it was time to go, you said, "No tanks. Just want to stay here my new school." So we signed you up and wrote a check and that was that. Thor and I read the teacher's bio and noted that she's spent 27 years teaching two year- olds. There aren't enough Bloody Marys in the world to make me take on something like that, and it put me in mind of Clay Mercer's advice when I told him I was auditioning preschools:

"Ask the preschool owner for a drug screen or alcohol test. If they refuse, move them to the top of the list."

Followed by:

"First, print up a disclaimer that says, 'I will refuse to believe everything Laney says about you, if you promise to refuse to believe everything she says about Thor and me.' Don't consider anyone who won't sign."

Today was your first day of school. I dropped you off, and neither one of us cried, so someone's losing some money in that pool. By all accounts, you had a great time.

Now that you have your own friends, and your own activities and are an all-around big girl, I have to wonder, Where did my baby go?

Love,

Mom