Pre-school Visits, Denim Shorts and Bed Time.

Today, we had a visit at E's future pre-school. It is a good opportunity for him to become familiar with the teachers, environment, and routine of going there, parking, walking in etc, we had M with us for the first time and E seemed more relaxed having his little sister there with him. M is almost 2.
We spent some time in the playground mainly watching the other children. We were approached by a few staff members in a friendly way, and he coped quite well. We spent some time in a busy classroom - his future classroom, in fact - and that was a little overwhelming. An empty classroom was next and this was much better for both of the kids. They looked at some bugs encased in resin with much fascination, and that prompted the director to loan us a book and a few puzzles that teamed with the theme. E was a little distressed thinking about how the bugs ended up in the resin, and even moreso when an overly enthusiastic learning support teacher showed him a glass covered pin board stuck full of butterflies. Eek!
But all in all, it was a successful visit and we lived to tell the tale!

So, as a reward for their bravery and participation, I promised the kids we could go to the shops. E wanted a "shirt with buttons" and M wanted "shirt. Blue." We ended up with neither, and instead spent an exorbitant amount of money on stretchy pants and Skylander t-shirts. However, we also had something of a break through with E, who was lusting after a pair of denim shorts in the boy's section. They were full price, and completely different to what he would usually wear, so I was reluctant to get them. I did, in the end, and he has worn them almost all day. Baby steps!

I feel like I have finally accepted that E needs me, and only me, for the bed time routine. When M is upset and wants her Mummy, we try and get E's dad to take him to bed, but it always ends in tears, tantrums, meltdowns, whathaveyou. The fact of the matter is that he simply can not cope with anyone else supervising the teeth brushing, taking him to the loo, and then cuddling up with him in bed. I hate that if we explain that I just can NOT do it (for whatever reason) that that is not acceptable. There is Elly Belly and his world, and all he hears is "I am not going to do what you need me to do." There is no reasoning, no coaxing, no ability to think beyond his own needs at that time. And it sucks. But it is what it is.