Exactly 6 days, 12 hours, and some odd minutes after my little man was deemed to be "not acceptable" I was informed that he was, in fact, "acceptable." Yes, I am talking about the never ending nursery school drama that has become my life.
Picture me, halfway through my beach yoga, somewhere between inverted triangle and warrior two when I notice that my phone is buzzing. I don't recognize the number but it is a local area code so of course I pick it up. Low and behold it is the same woman who last week had wait listed my little prince, who is now "welcoming me to the family." Yes, those exact words.
Of course, I immediately accepted the offer and sent in our tuition the moment we arrived home, let's not forget that the kids do yoga daily for Christ's sake (yes, I am still slightly obsessed with this fact.) I am, however, now just so jaded by the whole process. I mean 6 days. You sent me a letter essentially denying our entrance to your "amazing" school, only to tell me 6 days later that you can't wait to have my little man grace your presence. Really, would it have been so hard just to wait a week before crushing my hopes and dreams (said in a very sarcastic tone.)
In the end, I am very excited that we got in. Not because this is some "upper crust" nursery school, but rather because it is going to make my life a lot easier. For two days a week I will know that my little man is in a safe and fun environment, where he will be learning age appropriate activities, and will be playing with kids his own age. If I were to try on my own to create this type of environment it would cost a whole lot more money and would take up a significantly larger portion of my time.
I think perhaps it was better that we weren't deemed to be so "acceptable" at first glance. Now we will never feel the sense of entitlement that I imagine some of the other families will portray. Also, maybe I can represent to some others out there that it's not always who you know, but rather who you are. Even if it's on this very, very, very small level.
When we got the news the husband made the joke, " I guess we better start saving....it's either Harvard or Rehab at this point." Obviously, neither will be the case, but I still think it's kind of funny because I wonder if that is what some people think (about Harvard of course, not so much the rehab.)
Now we are on to the real stuff.....what kind of backpack and lunchbox best represents my kid. Oh, and is he allowed to bring peanut butter, or is it a nut free school? Will I drive him or take the train.....well at least I have until September to figure it out!
Oh, and just in case the picture threw you, no the little man does not have to wear a uniform....that would just be crazy!