So, it is Thursday. The babies should be well into their learning and playing at preschool. But no. They’re here with me. Watching Sesame St., no less.
This is not because I feel I can do a better job teaching them abstract concepts. It’s certainly not because I’m doing such a stellar job socializing them on my own. As much as I complained and worried on Tuesday, I didn’t pull them out because I missed them too much or because they were miserable and unable to survive without me. (They actually had a great time, with a few tears thrown in here and there for good measure. When I went to pick them up, they were pretty much leading the class in story time. Heart melted.)
No, I think preschool is going to be good for us. Except for one thing. The germs.