Can you believe my daughter is almost ready for PRESCHOOL?
Wasn’t she just born?
She’s nearly three and she wants to go to school like her brother. She has her own backpack and everything (bought at Gymboree during a sale.)
We went in yesterday for a preschool evaluation. This would determine if Natalie needed any services such as speech or occupational therapy. It would also show where she was in her development.
I dressed Natalie in an adorable outfit that made her look quite studious, if I do say so myself:
On the drive over I reminded Natalie not to be shy and to please please PLEASE not cry.
“Okay Mommy,” she assured me.
But guess what she did the second we were called back?
And she cried.
And she CRIED. You’d have thought that I told her that Plex smacked Brobee or something.
“Natalie,” I said as we were led back into a room. “Natalie, it’s okay.” My voice was muffled because Natalie was trying to climb on my head. I have no idea why she always goes for my head when she’s freaked out. I really wish she couldn’t. It messes up my already unruly hair. Then when I’ve wrestled her off of me my hair resembles that of a crazy scientist.
“I don’t YIKE!” Natalie screamed into my ear. I’m seriously going to be deaf by the time she’s five.
“It’s okay,” I tried again, wrestling her onto my lap. She thrashed in my arms and her elbow clocked me in the head.
“We just need to test your hearing,” the woman spoke up. She had been watching us in silence, probably surprised that such a tiny girl could make such a racket.
Eventually Natalie calmed down. It could have been because I gave her my cell phone.
“Just don’t calm Guam,” I begged.
Natalie passed her vision and hearing tests.
Then we were led into another room. This is where the evaluation began. The woman asked Natalie her name. Natalie gave it to her. She asked Natalie to name animals and colors. Natalie did that.
Then it all went downhill from there.
It all started when scissors were brought out. Natalie eyed them with interest.
“Could you cut the paper for me?” the woman wondered sweetly.
Natalie picked up the scissors. It was obvious that she didn’t know how to handle them properly. This is because I make it a habit NOT to give my two year old scissors. Is that wrong of me? Was I meant to hand them over so she could practice? I figured giving a two year old scissors would be akin to shoving a woman wearing fur into a group of PETA members. Pure and utter disaster.
After the scissor bit, the woman would say a series of numbers.
“5 7 8,” she’d go. Then she’d look at Natalie. “Can you repeat those numbers?”
Natalie shook her head. “No thanks.”
“5, 7, 8,” the woman tried again.
“NO THANKS!” Now Natalie was irritated. She gave me a Look like, “Can’t this woman shut up for two seconds? I’m trying to figure out these scissors here.”
“4, 6,” the woman continued.
“SHHHH!” Natalie said, finger on her lips.
So the woman moved on. She built a tiny tower with blocks and asked Natalie to do the same.
Natalie just stacked the blocks one on top of the other. No fancy tower.
“There,” she told the woman triumphantly.
“Can you make a tower like mine?” The woman did something different with the blocks.
“No thanks,” Natalie responded. “Not now.”
The woman blinked a few seconds and stared at her checklist. “Okay. Moving on,” she said. “Can you give me an example of a 3 word sentence that Natalie says?”
“I can do you better than 3 words. This morning Natalie said, ‘I am very mad today, Mommy,’” I answered.
“I am very mad,” Natalie repeated dutifully.
Natalie has been telling us when she was mad since she was one. She marched up to me one day, crossed her tiny arms over her chest and went, “I MAD!”
I think I said something snarky like, “Congratulations. Me too.”
“Why are you mad?” the woman inquired. “You’re too pretty to be mad.”
Natalie nodded firmly. “I am very mad.”
The woman glanced at the papers. “I think that’s it. What we should do is meet again in a month and see if we can’t get Miss Natalie to repeat things, use scissors, and understand ‘on top’ and ‘under’ concepts.”
Because when the teacher asked Natalie to put the block on top of the book, Natalie tried to stick the block down her shirt.
“Ta da!” she had gone. (Natalie, not the woman.)
So I will be taking her back next month. If Natalie doesn’t pass in those areas, she has to go through a two hour evaluation. There is no way she’d tolerate two hours.
Either way, Natalie will be put on the waiting list for the September session and will go twice per week.
Do you know what that means for me?
FREEEDOOMM! <---doing my best Mel Gibson impression.
I mean, okay, she’ll only be gone for like two hours but still. It’ll be helpful seeing as Tom will be going to Korea for a year in August. So I’ll get a tiny break at least. My goal is to go to a gym while she’s in school. Will that happen? Who knows? I might just skip through the house going, “I’m free, I’m free, I’m free.”
Anyhow, after the evaluation we came home and worked on cutting.
Natalie is quite determined. I notice she opens her mouth wide when she’s concentrating. She might want to stop this by the time she starts preschool. I’m worried a kid might mistake it for a trash can seeing as it’s so big and all.
And yes, she’s in a dress. I made the mistake of letting her try on her Easter dress and the little minx refused to take it off!
That’s a whole ‘nother entry in itself.