Dear Preschool,

Dear Preschool,

you bitch.

what the eff?

you’ve been my garden-of-eden, my promised-land, my oasis-in-the-desert, since the days Dyson Animal 07 was Crit’s bestbuddy.

i’ve longed for you. i’ve dreamt of you. i’ve soaked in the bathtub and imagined all the delightful ways you would treat me once we met.

and now…i want to punch you in the face.

since August began, the thought of you sincerely takes my breath away. i choke on you. i end up in a love-lump on the couch with my wee peeps because it is the only thing i’ve found that works.

it is not a cure. it is a band-aid. and it is getting ripped off….TOMORROW

i believed, with absolution, that i would be receiving you with open arms. you were the light-at-the-end-of-my-newborn-infant-toddler tunnel.

and maybe tomorrow i will.

but tonight, and all of the days leading up to it this month, i want to chuck you against the wall like wet spaghetti.

seriously, i repeat, what-the-eff?

how do you toy with me this way? i’m basically un-flipping-toyable! No one has worked me this emotionally since middle school.

perhaps i should have seen it coming…but i didn’t

i read once, before Crit was born, that when the babies come through the birth canal, you both receive an internal cocktail of hormones that bonds you together intensly.

all along, i felt ripped off because my wee peeps and i never had the flood gate wash over us. i couldn’t believe, of all people, i didn’t receive the cocktail! i reckoned that’s why ‘ol Dyson was her best friend.

tonight, preschool, i am somewhat grateful for my failed labor. if i felt any more intensely bonded to either one of my wee peeps it would simply be too much for me to bear.

Preschool, i am going to hand her to you tomorrow. and i cannot remember a time i’ve ever had such a hard time doing ANYTHING.

rolled along my entire life. always ready for the next adventure, the next experience, the journey to the unknown…

and now. right now, for the first time i can recall in my history, i feel reticent to peek around the corner.

i just want to stay smothered in a love lump on the couch.

when i attempt to delve into the complexity of it, it brings me only to one place.

despite the hours of accumulated self-doubt over the past 4 years…this may actually have been the thing i was best at.

i reckon i didn’t need that hormone cocktail afterall…

Keep her in the best care, preschool, please. she promises to be cool and to be kind.