Once I was watching Keeping up with Kim and Kourtney as they Take New York or whatever it’s called and Kourtney’s son had the same puzzle Colin had and was actually saying the word “Oval.” I was crushed that a child with Kardashian blood running through his veins could potentially be smarter than my son. CRUSHED.
I parent by playing with my kid and singing made up songs off key. We read books and we count to three. Which is merely a precursor to throw stuff. When we play matchbox cars, I ask him to show me his yellow car. He usually returns with a red car. I can’t blame the kid. He’s got lots of very cool red cars.
Every now and then, as a new parent, I like to consult Dr. TheBump.com and freak out since some faceless woman (maybe, probably not) says her son who was born two weeks after Colin can count to twenty both forwards and backwards. And in four languages.
Which is all to say it’s the blind leading the blind, here. I was an English major and not an Education major, so it is what it is. God. If I had only thought ahead when I was 18 that one day I might get married to a man who didn’t permanently wear a baseball hat and then get pregnant (on purpose! and be happy about it!) and have a family and be able to teach them to count to twenty forwards and backwards. Just think how different it could be! And I can’t even comfort myself with the fact that at least I’m not a Kardashian. Because her kid is probably smarter than mine. Oh well, at least I can still feel superior to the Teen Moms. Maybe. Probably. No, definitely. I think…
I was under the impression that I had another year to putz around with Colin watching Super Why and Sesame Street and randomly yelling out colors and shapes and educating him through osmosis before I had to consider handing over that duty to another person. Luckily, it turns out I was wrong. There are apparently some schools that accept children starting at two years old. Well, hot damn. Where do I sign? Maybe someone else can teach my child about ovals.
My mother in law is in education, so naturally, she had some questions about the schools I was looking into. Questions I never even considered. Maybe most other mothers would think to ask these questions. Apparently, I am a trusting individual with no common sense. Like who knew that schools needed to be EEC (???) certified. Or that there is a child to teacher ratio. Or some such business. I don’t even know. All I know is that the particular school I was *thisclose* to signing a contract with wasn’t checking out. And thank GOD my mother in law has the knowledge that I lack. And has special Massachusetts educator internet privileges. Because the school I picked? Sounded all sorts of sketch and illegal.
I swear, I never accepted candy from strangers as a child. But apparently, I am more than happy to send my kid to a preschool without checking first if any criminals work there. I’m dumb apparently and will entrust my sweet child to potential pedophiles.Woopsie daisy. It’s just my kid we’re talking about. No biggie.
We ended up finding an amazing program where Colin will go three times a week starting in September. It will cost us nearly three times as much as the other program I initially looked at, but I guess that’s the price for proper child to teacher ratio and a license to operate. They follow the preschool curriculum. But most importantly? There is a working toy train suspended from the ceiling that they run while the children enjoy snack time. At least, that is what impressed me most. Now do you understand why I shouldn’t be trusted to educate my child properly? I’m the girl who is distracted by the shiny object.
Also? It is a bilingual pre-school. So if he learns anything at all, Colin will already know more than his parents. That makes me both happy and sad, which I’m getting used to as a normal feeling when you are a parent. I just hope he learns the word “oval.” Or “ovale.” Whatever.