Waitlisted
With yours truly being Adalyn’s primary childcare, Sheaff and I were pretty pumped to bypass the daycare drama, thinking mainly this centered around a lot of drop off/pick ups, an intense immunity-build-up-boot-camp, and professionals who were licensed to never, never to bake a shaby. We soon realized that if we had in fact planned to put Adalyn in daycare, we would have had to sign up approximately 2 years before we got married in order to ensure her spot. That’s right people, it’s a baby-eat-baby waitlisting world out there, and though we currently have escaped this for infant care, little did we realize that we are most likely already way behind the ball for preschool.
Apparently, preschool is harder to get into than Yale, and if we cared about our child’s education at all, we should have put Adalyn on a preschool waiting list Yesterday. Baby Center, for example, talks about researching this thoroughly in our community and perhaps writing a letter to get into “the preschool of our dreams.” There could be dozens of children, smarter, faster, better than our kid, children who are already on the waitlist! In DC, one program has 519 children on a waitlist, while others range with a mere 369 to 400 children. According to the Washington Post, this pre-school lottery has received “6,600 unique applicants, with 59 percent securing placement in one of their requested schools.”
So. In addition to signing Adalyn up for an SAT prep course,
wining and dining her amongst the best of potential connections, and improving
her extracurricular activity, we are also working on developing her resume.
When the gate keepers of the Wait Lists of Lynchburg question us, we will be
ready to FIRE with how our child is SO ready to be considered among the
brightest of her drooling peers!
For example, Adalyn is already potty-trained. We currently have her trained to pee and poop in these cloth contraptions we
put around her bottom every day. So far, she is a natural, especially after a
healthy dose of grapes. Her skills in
the solid domain have proved both versatile and adaptable in size, color and
consistency. Her special instincts in this arena include timing; she can tell
exactly when we have put on a new diaper and are getting ready to go out. As
The Dear Reader Harry Potter dude says, “Kabloooomers! Destructiiioooon!”
She is geometrically advanced. Yesterday, she saw and could pick out the
straight Cheerio from the typical circular ones. How did she do this? Why, from taking the hypotenuse
arm over the tangent and following the si[g]n to solve for x. Shazam! She has
co-presented at a Lynchburg College class [see pic], where she left the students inspired
and their notebooks covered in baby drool.
Her vocabulary is a marvel! Sure, many children say bye-bye
and moo and calculator. But Adalyn has a highly sophisticated rhetoric, in
which she has mastered her own language. For example, a high squawk means I know Wallie is hiding under there. Please
let me at her so I can chew on her paw. Or a particularly low, subtle grunt
means Wow, that dinner is moving right
through me. Even better, a loud screech that goes on for more than 30
seconds translates roughly to I know we are
in public and I’m hoping to embarrass you as much as possible! Simple, but
genius.
Does she read, you ask? Adalyn goes above and beyond,
utilizing a hands-on-scholarly level; she tries to put herself in the books’
shoes (covers?) regularly by living in their habitat. “I am one with the books;”
her meditative venture speaks volumes. [1]
Remember Newton’s Laws of Motion? Well, so does Adalyn. Objects [small humans] in motion stay in
motion, unless acted upon by another force – that force being me, Sheaff,
chasing aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends or a solid doorway. Likewise,
objects at rest stay at rest, unless woken
up by a gd creaky floorboard right outside her nursery or the creepy ice
cream truck that blares Christmas music or Drew Suarez popping in “just to see
if she’s awake.[2]”
Of course, it’s not just academics Adalyn is passionate
about. She strives for new experiences outside of the classroom as well. Gymnastics, one of the most popular sports
among her tiny contemporaries, is a favorite.
She will succeed in her
double-spin-triple-twist-back-flip off the changing table soon, despite our
cruel attempts to thwart her success.
She is also leader of The Basket Club, designed to help munchkins
explore, learn about, and appreciate the art of stuffing Oneself into every
possible type of basket-ish object.
Adalyn is also a giver, charitable by nature. She compassionately
offers whatever she can to those around her. Things like, toys out of a basket
(once she is sitting in it), the bow from her hair, partially chewed food, and
dirt.
Ok, you probably want to know, outside of these amazing,
advanced skills she has, does she shows signs of just being your average
preschooler, able to relate to the masses? Well all preschoolers love toys
right? Adalyn does too!! If by toys, we mean measuring cups, muddy flip flops,
boxes of ziplock bags and small rocks that are choking hazards. If we mean actual toys, then nevermind.
Unless another child is holding and innocently enjoying it. Then, she must
have it, precioussss!
If you are thinking
we must be proud, you are correct!
In the meantime, while stuffing back the pressure that she
must learn her ABC’s, 123’s, cursive, and every color on Home Depots palette
wall, Sheaff and I are aiming to merely enjoy our nearly-one-year-old. Preschool
will come fast enough.[3]
For now, we’ll settle with that fact that for Adalyn, the chimes hanging from
our ceiling fan or the waves going in and out of the ocean, in her eyes, are absolutely
and completely magical. And in our eyes,
that’s all the magic we need. The rest…we’ll put in on the waitlist.
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