Pastries for Parents

Well, here we go ... the denouement of our little short-story-of-life called Preschool.  We're officially headed into the last week of school and all the "lasts" that come with it.  I already cried once today and I am sure there are many more tears to come.  Heck, there'd be tears if it was just that CAM was done with preschool, but it's also WHM who's leaving, and we're moving, and ... oh, there are so many "lasts" that it makes my head spin.  I'm usually not overly sentimental (at least, not outwardly, though I do admit more things make me cry now than ever before, and not just because of the end of preschool) but I think the next week's going to get me.  I don't want to be a self-fulfilling prophecy or anything, but I'm pretty confident we're heading into an emotional few weeks, my friends.

CAM graduates preschool Monday evening.  Tomorrow is WHM's last Kindermusik class with Miss Dana.

Today was "Pastries for Parents" at the preschool.

I really don't recall if I attended Pastries for Parents last year, and I know that sounds downright awful.  But the truth is that there is at least one "breakfast" for the parents every semester and it's donuts and coffee and so forth, sponsored by the church itself, and it's very informal and not a big production (and the kids are not involved) and I really seriously think that last Spring, I confused "Pastries for Parents" with that and skipped it.  In the back of my mind I really think I managed to skip it or forgot about it. I am not sure if that's right, but I just don't feel like we attended, for one reason or another.

Point is, whether it's because I skipped it last year or because I just don't remember attending, I had no idea what to expect this morning.  Mick was already dressed for the gym, and since I had no good answer as to what to expect, he went to the gym and I went to the school.

Naturally that meant it was much more special than that, and not just a dash-in, dash-out event. Oh, for goodness' sake, I should have known better!

The kids were all in the fellowship hall (the giant multi-purpose room at their school), and there were at least two tables filled with bagels and donuts and muffins and cupcakes and cinnamon cake and juices and waters and ... well, you get the idea.  There were also tables pre-set for the parents, and at each place setting were gifts from the kids.  Because CAM and WHM had the same "Pastries for Parents" day, the teachers had set a table up where I -- and other parents in the same situation -- sat together with both kids, instead of having to be two places at once.  (Phew.  If they'd each been with their respective classes, it would have been even more apparent that Mick wasn't there, and I'd have felt even worse than I already felt.  As it was, when the kids asked where Mick was, I just told the truth.  We didn't realize this was a fancy breakfast, and he was dressed in his crummy clothes for the gym and didn't want to come to their school all messy-Tessie.  They were satisfied.)  

Here are the gifts Mick and I received:

A flowerpot made by CAM with her fingerprints as "love bugs," and three flower cookies that she helped to bake.

A pencil holder from WHM with photos of him from various times during the school year, and a pinwheel he colored (and which works!).

A frame CAM made for Mick.

A book CAM made for me and for Mick, with poems and drawings and handprints and footprints.

As you can imagine, I got tears in my eyes when I read through the poems, and I welled up again when CAM explained to me that the picture is of her riding on my shoulders.  And then I cried (again) when I got home and showed them to Mick and he teared up.

 An old pair of WHM's shoes (or, in our case, Teva sandals, since I didn't have any of his old shoes) "bronzed," and turned into a small flowerpot, of sorts.  Super precious. (You might be thinking, "ewwww old sandals," but he wore these (a) all the time and (b) when he was still mostly in the stroller. So they weren't at all dirty -- I mean, they looked new -- and they do have some sentimental value.  So they make me smile.)

Man, this whole end-of-stuff is killing me.  I love my sweet perfect little girl, and I'm so excited for her about kindergarten, but truth be told I'd be happy if she were this age forever.

C'est la vie, I know.  That CAM and WHM are growing up and we get to enjoy them are very, very good problems to have.

--Jen

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