INFANTILE DELIQUENT

Well, we're already behind. I can see it now... Jake will be asked years later why he never did anything with his life. His sorrowful response will be, "Well, I never had a reason to. You see, my mom didn't get me on a waiting list for the preschool in time, so I've just failed out of everything since."

Okay, so it's not that big a deal. However, I did find out some new information that shows just how unprepared we are for the academic experience. The private elementary school where we plan to send Jake has a waiting list such that kids have to be signed up by their 2nd birthday. Okay, a bit steep, but no rush, right? Well, the private elementary school has its own preschool program for the kids to take when they're 4 years old. The preschool feeds into the elementary
program, so it's advisable to sign up for the preschool if you plan to send your child to the elementary school.

NOW I've found out that there's a pre-preschool program that feeds into the preschool program. I kid you not. Jake would enter the pre-preschool program at the ripe old age of 3 to prepare for the rigorous coursework of the preschool program. So, it follows that if you want your child to attend the elementary school, he must first attend the preschool, for which he must first attend the pre-preschool. I don't think my vector calculus class in college was quite this complicated.

The sad thing is that the pre-preschool program seems to have more stringent admissions standards than my old college of engineering did. Firstly, we were supposed to put Jake on the waiting list at birth. Seeing as how he's already a year old, I don't know whether they'll even consider the application. Secondly, the number of enrollment slots for morning and afternoon sessions is 16, for a total enrollment of 32 children. And that's only if they have enough staff to handle that many kids; there's a probability that it could be even less.

Finally, the admissions policy states that "Independent toileting skills are desirable." We all know that means if Jake waddles into the admissions interview in pull-ups, he'll be politely passed over. Can I really promise that 2 years from now, having never attempted such a feat before, that Jake and I will have successfully finished toilet training? I read the "Girlfriend's Guide to Toddlers", and laughed over the section where the author concealed her daughter's lack of toilet skills by sending her to nursery school with big-girl panties pulled on over top of the pull-ups, and a nice fluffy skirt to conceal the whole thing. Now I'm wondering if Dan would object to the addition of kilts to Jake's wardrobe.

Worst of all is my realization that the main reason for sending Jake to the private school is that most of his buddies from playgroup will also be attending there. I thought it would be nicer for Jake to start school knowing that he already had friends in his class. (Plus the school does have a really good academic standing.) Right now though, all the hopeful expectations of all the playgroup mommies, including myself, seem particularly fragile. What happens if the other kids get in and Jake doesn't? What happens if Jake gets in and his friends don't? Neither prospect seems very pleasant; I think I might cry either way. Private school boasts many things, including higher test scores, better environment, less disruption and violence. But the one thing it doesn't have is inclusiveness. And that seems like a hard lesson to learn when you're only 3 years old.