The Mini Van Corral

I'm a soccer mom, drive my kid to school everyday mom (and pick him up), packing lunch with vegemite sandwiches and a freddo frog surprise mom.

I'm also mom to one of the most laid back, coolest kids around. We have some friends with pretty cool kids themselves, but I'm sure you understand, I've got a favorite and he's mine. Every morning at Joseph's request, we have listened to CAKE 'The Distance" which Joseph calls "The Distance and The Speed Song" and then "I will survive" by CAKE. He loves them both. And we can't just "listen" to them, we have to "turn it loud mommy!!" which I do, and Joseph mouths along the words and stares out the window as the early morning passes him by and he whispers "no trophy, no flowers, no flashbulbs, no lines....".... he's going THE DISTANCE!

I re-introduced him to JET "Put your money where your mouth is" song this morning, I say "re-introduced" because this was a favorite of mine/his when I was carrying him around all day, on the inside. I'd put this song on, and he'd start rocking out in my belly. Needless to say, "put your money" is now on our favorites playlist that is rapidly growing to be one of the rockin' collections ever put together by a 3 year old.

We pull into the street where the mini van corral begins and I slowly turn down the music, Joseph doesn't protest because he knows we are near school, which is just freakin loves and he sits so far forward in his booster that I think he is going to pop his 5 way harness and get smushed against the windshield at 5MPH in an effort to get just that LITTLE bit closer to seeing all the action that is going on outside his school before we go in.

It's like a buffet of parent approved transportation. The main course, is of course, the mini van. Toyota, Mazda, Toyota, Ford, Muranos (not a mini van, but cooler extension of such). Mine is only one of a handful, a sprinkling, of four door sedans. There are of course the parents in the mini SUVs that haven't quite yet made it to swallowing that big lump in their throat and turning the key in a mini van, but they are so close, I lump them in that group. As Pre-K parents we get to pull in and park and take our kids into the school, into their classrooms, getting in one to three more last kisses and hugs before they catch a glimpse of their friends and happily skip off to spend the day not thinking about us. Which is ironic, I catch myself spending a serious amount of time thinking about what Joseph does all day, if he is eating his lunch, talking with other kids, being shy or having a fun time. The mini van corral continues around the parking lot, Joseph and I dodge the slowly moving cattle, err, mini vans, as they drop off their precious cargo in the hands of the teacher on duty in the receiving line that morning, and shuttle them into the gymnasium where from there, the kids are on their own and are expected to turn up in their classrooms.

The brakes on the vans moan like cattle not really wanting to move, but need to be shuttled to the exit so that other kids can be dropped off. Some of the parents make small talk to the teacher on the receving line as if trying to delay the inevitable. The teacher gets the kid(s) and simultaneously shuts the door to the van and waves the next one along. Their smile is the substitue for the cowboy whip cracking, the parents looking back and waving resembles the reluctance of the cattle to move through the gate. The exit gate.

The first day of school was fantastic. Joseph was excited for exactly 2 months, 8 days and 23 hours when I told him he was going to start preschool everyday up until the first day, "I want to go to preschool now". I now realize why parents don't tell their kids about going to Disneyland until they are at the ticket gate. You just don't want to hear about it for weeks beforehand. We picked out the outfit the night before, laid out the clothes and I prepared him a special "first day of preschool present". Joseph has been a tremendous sport every morning. We never did what everyone told us to do "go to bed 10 minutes earlier each night for 2 weeks until you are going to bed at the right time, so you can get up earlier. We just went to bed, and every morning Joseph has been sleepy eyed, heavy head and limbs like a raggady Anne doll, but the very mention of going to school that morning and it's instant chatter about oatmeal, cereal or toast, what shoes he is going to wear and what toys he can't, but wants to take to school that day to show Mrs Jacob. He's a champ.

I didn't cry either, in fact, that never crossed my mind, I think I was as equally as excited about the first day of school as Joseph was/is. I did the fake sniffle and looked at Paul "he is all grows up" with my eyebrows raised and my forehead ruffled, honestly I think Paul was a little more sniffly than I was, but he kept it under wraps pretty well. Paul and I chatted all the way to work about what Joseph would do that do, when we could pick him up and how we thought he was going to do. Then we were silent, I think we both imagined how his day would play out in his classroom, eating lunch and playing outside, how happy he would be to see us in the afternoon to pick him up. Or then again, Paul could have been micro sleeping, he hasn't had to get up that early for work or school and I think his brain might have been haemorraghing as the thought of actually being at work before 9am without coffee in hand, hit him.

Yesterday I picked him up from the play yard outside and he was trying to get the attention of a very pretty little girl, whom he later introduced to me as, Sophia. She is "very pretty", I said, Joseph replied, "No she isn't mommy, she is very cool." He kept trying to get her attention to get her to come home with us to play at our house, she seemed pretty disinterested, but gave Joseph enough attention that he was still eager to pursue. Get use to it Joseph, this is where it all starts. He was so interested in her and kept insisting that she is "so cool" that I was able to use her name as an extra incentive to get dressed this morning as I nagged Joseph four or five times to get dressed, while he stalled in imaginative play. I'd bring him back to reality "Don't you want to see Sophia? You can't see her if you aren't dressed!" "Ok, ok, ok ok, Mommy!"

Joseph described Sophia to grandma on a phonecall last night, "she's a FOX", I about dropped when I heard him say that, did Paul teach him that, where did he learn that, OMG!? Then I quickly realized when I picked up Joseph she was wearing a headband that had "fox" ears on it, "yes," siad Joseph, "yes she was a fox, like a wolf, Sophia is a wolf". Ohhhhhh, Oooook. That was funny. It was another word/phrase/bad habit I thought his daddy had taught him, how quickly Joseph has pikced up on bad terminology used by his father and relayed it for everyone, in the most appropriate, yet in appropriate of circumstances. I'm just WAITING for the day, Joseph gets in front of his classroom, trys to make them laugh, rolls over, hits the floor and exlaims "oh I hurt my balls!" Like he does everywhere else and has, unfortunately taught Jake to say as well, sorry Andrea, but I did say you can blame Paul for that one. Joseph has already smacked me on the butt as he walks by, because he has seen Paul do that. Awesome, I gotta get this kid some class.

Joseph looks nothing like me, but is just like me. He will do anything, almost anything to get a laugh out of someone. When all else fails, or you just aren't sure, try laughter, that usually works. To a 3 year old, this is physical humor, like rolling over, pretenting to hurt yourself or run around or say crazy words together like "peanut butter pants!" or "diaper change head". He thinks he is so hilarious, and he is pretty funny, for a 3 year old. I always and still do, try to make fun out of everything. Even when it is probably inappropriate, sorry kids, I just don't know any other way, I tried maturity and it turns out, that wasn't for me. So if you know of someone that has colon cancer and might have to get a colostomy bag, don't tell me, because I'm sure to say something like "well the worst thing about a colostomy bag is trying to find shoes that match." ba-da-ching! Joseph has this exact same trait. I've learned to keep it under wraps in most appropriate circumstances, so I hope he can do the same. If you are reading this and don't think that I do, well then imagine how much MORE worse I could be.

At 3, Joseph has a sense of humor, sense of taste in music, sense of surroundings and feelings and a great attitude. I just hope that when he turns into the puberty inducing doppleganger of a child I once knew, that he still maintains these traits and once he overcomes that pimply evil teenage years, he comes out of it stronger and more self assured in the beautiful (sorry Joseph, I mean COOL) personality traits he has had since he was just a half baked baby swimming in amniotic fluid.