Last week I had to spend the day at J's preschool. He was having a full blown anxiety attack at drop-off, so his teacher asked me if I wanted to stay to ease him into the day. Luckily, my dad happened to be in the car with me, so he was able to take my younger son home while I stayed to keep the peace.
I was annoyed because I had things to do that day, but also happy to be able to witness first hand how J's school day goes from start to finish.
Drop off is at 11:45, so as soon as the kids get their jackets off and settled in, it's lunch time. They all do very well. They open their own lunches and eat the "meal" first- whether it's the sandwich, or soup, or pasta. They keep the snacks in their lunch bags under their chairs until they finish their meal. I love how the preschool teachers are able to keep a group of 4 and 5 year olds in a routine like that. Very impressive.
I sat and watched all these miniature people acting very much like any other demographic eating lunch. So very civilized they were. I can't help but keep my eyes fixed on my son. He is so sweet and innocent and beautiful inside and out. He ate his cheese sandwich on multi grain bread quietly and sipped on his fruitables juice box. When he was finished he threw away his sandwich bag and took out his little tupperware of raisins. Had a few of those and then finally reached under his chair to get the cookie out of his brown paper bag.
I glanced around at some of the other kids around me. Lunchables for one kid, cheese on white wonder bread for another... WHITE bread! That's when it struck me--- I looked around at the rest of the kid's lunches. Kraft mac'n'cheese for one little girl in a thermos, another lunchables pizza kit, more white bread sandwiches... My son and ONE other little girl were the only ones in the room that were eating a lunch that resembled a healthy, somewhat balanced meal.
I sat up a little bit straighter after this realization. Gave myself a silent "way to go Mom" and a pat on the back. Apparently, I'm not all that bad at this parenting thing after all. I make mistakes, and yell too much. I let my kids eat their Easter candy in the morning... but I give them the good stuff they need too. I don't necessarily always give them "traditional" meals-- pizza for breakfast and pancakes for dinner some days.. but they're getting what they need. And they are polite and nice. I'm not all that bad after all.
Good job.
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