Thursday, June 06, 2013

Pre-K Graduation

Norah's graduation from Pre-K was kind of anti-climatic.  I feel like there had been all of this build up for weeks and then the actual day of was kind of a hot mess.  First of all, BVZ was out of town for work, which sucked.  It was on a Wednesday evening, so I came home from work early.  I should have known something was up when she was sound asleep on the couch.  Bubby said that she had fallen asleep and she had left her there because she seemed so tired.  Kid hasn't napped in well over three years.  We let her sleep as long as possible and then I and got her ready in the beautiful dress Bubby gifted her (which I of course failed to take a single picture of her in).  All was well and I thought we might actually be there with a few minutes to spare, when I made the tragic mistake of trying to fix her hair.

Now, I am no Toddlers and Tiaras mom.  I pick my battles and hair and clothing tend not to be battles I choose.  Kids need choices and some degree of control and there's no sense in sending them somewhere they are going to be uncomfortable and preoccupied with how they look or feel.  She was trying to grow her bangs out and so I asked if I could pin them back.  I did and she didn't like how it felt, so I took it out.  End of story.  Or so I thought.  She lost her damn mind.  I could not for the life of me figure out what was going on.  She said she didn't want her hair pinned back.  So, I took the pins out.  There were still many tears and many dramatic arm flails.

I thought we had it sorted out when she tried on her black dress shoes, which apparently in the course of about 12 hours became too small.  Fine.  Pick out another pair.  Wear any shoes you have except for the pink cowboy boots because you flop around in them and they are hard to keep on sometimes.  The tears.  The wailing.  The fist pounding.  WTF.  She finally settled on purple tennis shoes.  Fine by me.  Then more tears because she thought I was upset at her.  Gah.  

We were a little late, but got her shuttled to the right spot to sit with her class.  There were three classes graduating, each with about 16 kids.  Everything's bigger in Texas, even pre-K.  

Thankfully the family was there early saving seats because it was packed.

There was a slide show of all the hilarious graduation photos. Each kid was decked out in a cap and down and posed in front of what looked like a law library.

I brought the good camera, but something was off because the flash didn't work, the zoom didn't work and it took the most horrible pictures of all times.

The program was pretty short.  They had the kids recite a bunch of crap they learned during the year, and then sing some cute songs. Norah was so over it the second it started.  She yawned and fidgeted and generally looked annoyed.

Then each kid's name was called and they received their diploma.

Again, totally not impressed.

She perked up a little when it was over and she got to see the cousins. 

She had a great teacher this year (and will be with her throughout the summer).

I wanted a cute photo of us, but we were both tired and sweaty.  At least you can kind of see her cute dress.

Each kid got a cup with balloons and some small gifts from the school (a book, some candy, etc.)  It also had a message from the parents (that we filled out months ago) with our hopes for their future.  It also had written down what each kid said they wanted to be when they grow up.  Norah's said, "I want to be a cheerleader."  OMG.  What?  It was part hilarious, part perplexing.  I mean, if she wants to be a cheerleader more power to her, but it's not something I could ever imagine her saying.  On our way to the car I asked her why she said she wanted to be a cheerleader and she insisted that she never said it.  I dropped it but she got more and more agitated, INSISTING that she never said that and it was wrong.

On one hand, thank god she doesn't want to be a cheerleader when she grows up, but on the other hand I was a little dismayed because I was worried that maybe she actually did say it and then tried to retract because she somehow sensed I wasn't fully into the idea (I would never tell her anything but she can be whoever she wants to be.  And I really do mean it).  Either way, it was no good.

Thankfully, we were distracted from cheerleader-gate by cake at home and sweet gifts from the family.  All's well that ends well.

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