Emotions

Legend has been having a rough time with preschool. The problem is that he loves it. He loves it so much that he throws a complete fit every time I pick him up from preschool. He refuses to put on his shoes. He will not use his own feet to exit the building. He bawls and screams. It is horribly embarrassing, but I just have to keep telling myself that I am only responsible for what I do.

I brought him a sucker one day to bribe him to leave nicely. It mostly worked, but I felt like such a cheater/failure and even more embarrassed that I had to use candy to get my kid to cooperate, so I only did that once.

Last time, I brought Bear.
Bear is Legend's very special bedtime bear that rarely leaves the house except on over-night trips.
I thought it would bring him some much needed comfort during the transition.


Teacher calls Legend out from the circle time room for pick up - "Legend, your mommy is here."
Legend yells happily - "Mommy!" But he sure doesn't give me that greeting in the coat room.

He comes out the door and looks at me. I can see a flood of emotions spread across his face, but like rolling a weighted die, he inevitably lands on Miserably Defiant.
I feel my own face, and spirits, drop. "Legend, look who came to see you." I hold Bear out to him hopefully.
Legend looks confused, then happy, then furious.
He grabs bear and chucks him across the room.

Plan B - Let's try quick and dirty
I scoop Legend out of the doorway and plunk him on the bench to get his shoes on as fast as I can. He surprisingly doesn't cry like every time before. He is too worried about Bear.

Legend - "My bear! Oh no! He's over on the floor."
Me - "Okay, well go get him."
Legend hops down and runs to grab bear. He comes straight back to me and proceeds to punch, bite, and rip at Bear. Then he looks at me, likely expecting some negative reaction.
I keep my face expressionless.
He hugs Bear tight.

Legend, for the first time, willingly leaves preschool on his own two feet.
He is very quiet as I buckle him in his car seat.

As I drive away, he puts his little hand longingly on his window and cries - "My preschool! My preschool!"

And I count that as a huge success. Yikes.