Preschools are in high demand around here.  There's one preschool/daycare that had a waitlist so long for infants that, by the time a child's name came up, he or she would be two years old.  Since you can't put toddlers in the infant slots, the school went to a once-per-year lottery instead.  It's basically baby heaven, with blue-hued gauzy tents draped over the nap futons and a lunch menu that includes curry chicken and yam fries - on second thought, that sounds more like my kind of heaven.  The toddlers are probably just as happy chowing down on GMO chicken nuggets and transfat-laden french fries, even if their parents aren't. 

I got on the list for Axel's daycare when I was five months pregnant, and he didn't get a slot until he was four months old - eight and a half months later.  At the same time I put my name down on that list, I also put it down on a waitlist at a daycare that's closer to our house, and that has part-time slots.  Around here, it's hard to find infant slots, and twice as hard to find part-time infant slots.  We're still on the waitlist for the closer center, and it's not likely that Axel's name will come up until he's about fourteen months old.  So, to get a spot, I would have had to put my name on the list before getting a postive pregnancy test.  And I consider myself to be someone who planned ahead - what do people do who don't start thinking about childcare until their child is six weeks old?  Bring boxes of bagels to the daycare everyday?  Sell their child's soul to the devilish waiting list queen?   

Given the demand for infant slots, I figured I should start researching preschool options now.  The choices expand the closer Axel gets to two years.  Figuring out how the wait lists work, though, is it's own kind of science.  It seems like the waitlists should just be first come, first served - you know, take a number, sit on a hard plastic chair, and read your magazine, like the DMV.  But, no, that's not how it works.  Some of the waitlists operate by month - put your name on the list of the month for which you want a spot and, if a spot opens up that month, you might get it.  But if a spot opens up the next month and you didn't also put your name on the list for the next month, you're bumped to the bottom.  At another place, you put your name on the interest list.  Then, a few months before a spot or two might open up, the center director calls the interest list families, and there's a mad rush down to the place to put down the deposit and secure the highest spot on the waitlist - and even then, you might not get a spot.  I'm not even going to start on the interview and applications for some of the Montessori schools.  Just thinking about prepping a two year old for an interview freaks me out.  I mean, what do you do?  Remind him not to pick his nose before he shakes the prospective teacher's hand?   I don't even know what sort of preschool will be a fit for Axel but, with the length of waitlists, I feel like I've got to get him on at least a few, so that the balance of power is switched once he's ready to go to preschool, and we will get to choose from several options, instead of going with the only place that has an opening for us.

The main thing I've learned in all this calling around to the preschools is that I am not important.  I am not desireable.  The preschools - at least before you get in - are the pretty popular girls, and I'm the drooling math genius desperate to tutor them just to get my foot in the door.  Half of them don't call me back.  I've yet to receive an email reply from any that I've sent - makes me wonder why the preschools even have email addresses listed on their websites.  They're all playing hard to get, and I haven't even figured out the rules.   There's a secret password I don't know.   Maybe I should start bringing fresh baked cookies on the information tours with me.

When I started on this preschool quest, I heard something that frightened me even more: a coworker's wife told me that they'd put their daughter's name on the waitlist for her charter school before her first birthday.  She's just now five, and will be entering kindergarten at the school in the fall.  Oh. My. God.    Maybe I should just homeschool Axel and avoid all of the school craziness.  Then I'd be able to avoid being driven insane by the waitlist waiting game, and I'd never have to make cupcakes for 60 2nd graders or worry that I'd break 25 little hearts when the class hamster eate its young while staying at our house over winter break.  

Really, though, I'm sure that it will all work out.  I went to neighborhood public schools, and I turned out OK.  As long as Axel's in a daycare or preschool that is safe, with loving and caring staff,that returns my calls and access to some finger paints and construction paper and a playground, I figure it will be fine.   But if you know the secret preschool password, please share it with me...