Shhhhh. Just...shhhhh.

Every other child in this area, and apparently on God's green earth, has started school already. Every child, except for Henry. And, presumably, Henry's schoolmates. Henry's school starts tomorrow.

We have spent two full weeks together. The first week was jam-packed with fun as his many friends were also out of school, and there was much merriment and pool-going and beach adventures and etc. But now all his friends are in school, and Henry has turned to me for companionship. And boy howdy, I love my kid, but he talks ALL THE TIME. He narrates everything he's doing. Everything. I often delight in his extensive vocabulary and the stuff he comes up with is often so clever and adorable I'm weak with love, but then he keeps talking and talking and talking and whoops I just jammed a fork into my ears. If he can't think of something to say he launches into a stream of nonsense words. I admit that I can get pretty voluble when I'm in the mood, but when I have nothing to say I don't shout BOOP BEE BOOP while throwing myself to the ground and slapping my head.

Okay, sometimes I do that.

As I was typing the above Henry joined me at the dining room table. He can spend only a few minutes playing by himself until the need to share his ongoing adventures overcomes him. Here, verbatim, as it pours from his mouth—or as I call it, his sound-hole—is an excerpt from Henry's narrative as he shoves a Transformer under my nose: "It has a magic glider with a horse, and a shirt and that shirt is magic. And it also has robotical powers for him. Is that cool sounding? Is that cool sounding? Isn't that cool sounding?"

Yes, son. It's cool sounding.

Adding insult to emotional injury, this new school of his features a ridiculous, painfully drawn-out phase-in. I can appreciate the thinking behind the phase-in, but they haven't taken into account that I AM LOSING MY MIND. The first day is thirty minutes. THIRTY. I will drop him off, head home, open the door, close the door, and head right back. Or I will sit in my car and chew gum. I will bet that my gum will not have lost its flavor by the time school's done. The second day? 45 minutes. Maybe I'll have to move on to a second stick of gum by then. Maybe I'll choose a different flavor, mix things up a little. Wheee! The days continue like that until Friday, when he stays for enough time that I could possibly run home to write an email and toast a waffle. If I eat the waffle while composing the email I might be able to pee before heading back out! Jubilee!

"Know where these two people went? Do you know? Do you know, Mama? The guy went into his own mind with one of his friends. He went into his own mind. The robot went into his own mind. He went into his own mind with one of his friends. SHHHHOOOOOOOOoooooooooooop."

So in other words, school doesn't actually begin until next week. School, by the way, being pre-school, because I was stupid enough to birth my child on October 7th, when the cut-off date for kindergarten in New Jersey is October 1st; no, they won't put him into kindergarten, there are no exceptions, yes, I CHECKED. And frankly I'm not too broken up about him spending an extra year in preschool. He's probably ready in-tee-lek-shully for kindergarten but physically he's a teeny bit behind, and every year he's been the youngest in his class and has literally been unable to catch up to his classmates as they race circles around him. (Of course the fact that he wants to stop and comment on everything doesn't help him move any faster. Here's Henry at the playground: "Wow, you sure can climb those monkey bars! I would climb them but I don't know how and anyway I don’t really want to learn. But you're doing great! You're almost at the end now! And hey, now you're running and you run really fast! I'm going to run too! Hey, wait up! I'm following you!")

Also, the public school kindergarten here is a half-day. It ends at 11:30. That is too early. So even though we can't eat because of all the money we're paying for preschool, at least he's there until 3 p.m. Of course not this week.

"Look at this guy, I tied him up pretty good. I tied him up with a special magic rope. He's a cryto-robber. Look at this guy, see? Are you looking? Look at this guy, look how I tied him up? Do you see it? Look. Look! Look at how I tied him up? Are you looking?"

I may have raised my voice a teeny bit with that last one. YES I SEE HIM GREAT WHATEVER. I'm losing it. I just gave him three Fig Newtons, because at least then he'll be quiet. Right? Wrong.

"I turned my Fig Newton into a boot. I bited it and it looks like a boot. See? Now I'm eating the boot. Now it's a car. See? See? Now I'm eating it. Now it's the wind. Because I ate it all? See? See how it's the wind? See?"

Dear school: please start. Thank you. Love, Alice.

P.S.: Hey, look: a Wonderland post from last week! Do you see? Look! Look! Look! Look! See? Do you see? Look!

Comments

[scribblesnbits]

I wonder if I could work out a phase-in program like that after I've been gone from work for a while (you know, like the weekend?) Because 8 hours tends to tests my patience after a while and by the end of the day I'm probably squirming more than any of the pre-schoolers.

[Nicole]

I always feel like a shitheel when I laugh my way through your posts. Is it wrong to find such comedy in your tragedy?

I also have a narrator with a timed-wrong birthday. He will be ineligible for Kindergarten next year, unless we move to New Jersey, since his birthday is in late September and the cutoff here is September 10. His narration habits have become considerably more...um...entertaining (?) since we started watching Wonder Pets, where most everything is sung in an opera-style recitative. Now my son not only narrates, he does it like frickin' Pavarotti. (Rest in Peace, Maestro.)

Oh, and that phased-in preschool thing is diabolical. Who in the hell designed that? It's like taking a bandage off one-tenth of a millimeter at a time for maximum pain and suffering.

[theinsider]

Hehe.. you crack me up.

However, my cousin sounds a lot like Henry and his mom ended up buying him a microphone and told him to podcast, LOL. He does tape himself, but instead of posting it online he plays it for the whole family.. so, um, maybe not the way to go for you? ;)

Oo, or you could just give him a brother or sister. :D

[Marisa]

Gee, thanks. Another keyboard ruined, courtesy of Finslippy.

I feel your pain... my step-daughter is the same way. As much as I love her, I would probably run away from home if we had to spend two full weeks together.

[SusieJ]

I'll join you on that stick of gum, but not until Friday. Today, I accompany him the entire stay of his first day until preschool.

[slouching mom]

I've said it before, but Henry is a mini-me of my nine-year-old Ben. That's, I think, why I'm so fond of Henry. I know him.

BTW, Ben's birthday is Oct. 12.

[Farrell]

I wonder if my friends ever feel like you.

[Nina]

I feel your pain, and see my future. I'm mother of an almost three year old, who was born 6 days after the cut-off up here in NY. Already she talks so much, I'm thinking about just recording her for 15 minutes, in which she is all talk and no breathing - if that is humanly possible - and taking it into the school district to see if they don't think it would be cruel and unusual punishment to make us wait another year. I will stop looking here for hope.

[Nell]

I thought my daughter's phase-in was rough - she has a half day until October - but half an hour? Seriously? Wow. Good luck this week!

(I've been lurking here and at Wonderland for a while now - I love your writing!)

[Lisa Milton]

Stock up on the gum of many flavors and savor the first real week of school. It's almost here. The narrator cracks me up.

[Jensboys]

One word.

Siblings.

Have another, or 3. I have 4 boys now 12,11, 10 and 6. And yes, the first couple years were hard (understatement) but, wow, it paid off after the age of 2.

Built in playmates. Playmates that are just as interested in the magic cyber robber as they are. Playmates that actually listen.

Mom makes copious amounts of food. Mom wipes bums and does laundry. Mom does NOT have to play transformers, unless Mom wants to. But usual mom doesnt get it anyways, and brothers are more fun.

Kids play.

Of course, now I homeschool the whole bunch of them, so something backfired along the way.

But still.

Siblings. Works like magic.

At this point in time, I would suggest adopting a sibling group of toddlers. Probably 3 or 4.

[Lori]

There's a phase-in at the Beaner's Montessori school, too. It only lasted for a week and a half, though, and "real" hours started this morning. The head of school mentioned, when it became obvious that most of the parents were sick of the phase-in by day three, that this was the fastest phase-in she'd ever seen. At the school where she used to teach, phase-in was a MONTH. Ugh. We couldn't wait to get to regular hours.

Btw, the Beaner was born on November 30, and the cutoff for Kindergarten at the school is must-be-5-by-September-1, so we're in for four years.

[Emma]

Oh, dear. My husband and I both recently began working from home, and I discovered that he, too, talks. All the time. A constant narrative of what he's doing, what he thinks I should be doing, what we're going to do next, ad nauseum. He's not "gifted," he's just an extreme extrovert who likes to talk. I am an introvert who feels my life force draining with every word that comes out of his mouth.

Recently his mother told me that he said his first few words and then didn't stop talking until he was five years old. Thanks for sharing that information in a timely manner, lady.

[tulip]

Oh my GOD I feel your pain. Mine is 3 and never SHUTS UP!!! And I too feel the love but on hour three of "Look Mommy LOOK!" I tend towards the fork in the ear myself.Good luck on the phase in!

[cce]

This reminds me of trying to watch the US Open with my six year old last night. "Well who won that point? He did. Is he good? Ohhh, he's good then. Did he get that one. Why does he wear that thing on his forehead all the time. Did that other one get asked to wear white? Who won that point. The white shirt one? He did? Is he good? Ohhh, Ohhh. It was a two hour match. I am terribly tired today from all that commentary!

[liz]

Mine writes and illustrates stories.

U plane flu n the eyr

(A plane flew in the air. Completely phonetically accurate for those of us with Texas accents.)

At least she's in Kindergarten now. That lasts until 2.50. The problem I have with 2.50 is that the last hour or so is spent napping, having a snack and playing at recess. I'd rather have her home most day than "nap" at school. The joke will be on them, though. Nap, HAH! Nap in my house means non-stop rolling around and story telling in 18 voices.

[All Adither]

Oh my gosh, this post was so worth the wait. Brilliant. Stunningly brilliant.

[Jonathon Morgan]

Hysterical! I love my daughter to death, but it's always when I'm stuck trying to respond to emails (or whatever) that she really wants my attention. Other times I'd be more than happy to run around the apartment, doing whatever, but she'd prefer to shut the door and make up stories with her dolls all by herself. The way it goes, I guess...

[Mauigirl]

LMAO! That was funny. I can just hear Henry saying all that. Maybe in a few years he'll be blogging just like his mom and he'll type it all instead of saying it!

[rimarama]

I just might have the female version of Henry and am currently going through the same pre-school phase-in purgatory as you.

BTW, you slay me, Finslippy! I've been reading you for a few weeks now, but usually I'm too lazy to log into my typepad account in order to leave a comment. Today I did because I had to pick myself up off the floor with the shock of recognition that your post hit me in the face with.

[Katie]

I think your son and my son should get together. Jack (who is three and a half)this morning as he dropped a toy: "Damn! I mean damnit! I mean Beaver dam, really Mama, I meant beaver damn. Beavers build their damns with sticks, why was I talking about beaver dams Mama? Damn beaver dams! I mean BEAVER dams not the bad word damn Mama, dams, beaver dams..."We don't start preschool until Friday (???) and it is a phase-in until the end of next week. I am nine months pregnant and I don't know if I can handle it! I need full days, ASAP!

[falwyn]

Ahh, yes, I have a born-September-third-cut-off-September-first. Yipee. However, she also has a little brother, and it's working wonderfully at the moment.

And... "now it's the wind"? SO AWESOME.

[Lisa C.]

Um, Alice? Alice. Alice. Allliiiiccceeee. Are you listening? Are you... Alice? Are you listening? OK. Good.

I also have a boy who tells very, very long, inventive stories and tells them to me ALL DAY LONG. He also says the word "mama" about 500 times a day. By the end of the day when I hear the word "mama" I cringe and then try not to sound like an annoyed bitch. He starts Pre-K in 2 weeks and I will no longer be the primary source of his entertainment.

[Michelle]

I'm sure you're writing stories about my son and calling him Henry. How do you know him?

[Frankie]

HAHAHAHAHA!!! LMAO!!! LOL!! AHAHAHAH!!!

(wipes tears)

HAHAHAHA... I think I just peed myself...

my kids' favorite quetion is "but why DOES it"... I DON'T FREAKIN' KNOW WHY IT DOES!!!

But I love you baby!.(smile!)

LMAO!