The girls had their preschool orientation yesterday, and start
preschool for real tomorrow. The orientation was, well, a little
harrowing. For starters, I wasn't in the greatest state of mind. My
moods have been playing havoc with me of late, and I was feeling a bit
unhinged and over-emotional. Granted, it's an emotional thing to grasp
the fact that your babies are old enough to start preschool. But in my
un-depressed state, I'm not one to tear up repeatedly in the midst of
this kind of thing, as I did yesterday. Meanwhile, the fact that I was
feeling foggy and depressed on this significant occasion made me feel
even worse. (Depressed about being depressed -- who needs that?)
Fortunately,
Alastair was there with me, and able to play the role of sane and
stable parent. And Elsa, not surprisingly, was totally in her element.
When we arrived at their classroom, she was off to the races,
immediately checking out all the new toys. (We even witnessed our first
interaction between her and a classmate! She yelled "mine!" when he
tried to take a play teacup from her. Ah, our feral, un-socialized
children.) Clio, though, clung to me and didn't want to let go. After a
few minutes, we managed to get her to go over and play with a tea set
on the play table that she'd been eyeing, and she soon seemed quite
happy, pouring imaginary tea and serving up plates of plastic waffles.
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