Dear Jack: Saying Goodbye To KinderCare, Your Preschool Since July 2011

4 years, 2 months.

Dear Jack: Saying Goodbye To KinderCare, Your Preschool Since July 2011

Dear Jack,

A week from this Friday, Lord willing, we will officially be moving into our new house. And for you, that means you will start going to a just-opened preschool, right around the corner from where we will be living.

Since before Thanksgiving, we have been renting out a bedroom from some friends. It’s a very nice place to stay; but obviously, it’s a bit like living in a “tiny house” since there are three of us living in the same bedroom.

Dear Jack: Saying Goodbye To KinderCare, Your Preschool Since July 2011

Once we move, Mommy will be able to start working from home once a week.

Plus, she will start going in to work early (meaning I’ll be the one who will be getting you ready for school in the morning, which I am very happy about!) and therefore Mommy picking you up earlier than you’re used to.

I am also really excited about the extra quality time you will be able to spend with Mommy.

That’s why we’re moving you to this new school. KinderCare is great; there’s just not one where we’re moving.

Moving you to this new school near our new home is the best decision for our family, to have more quality time together now that’re moving 35 miles away from Nashville, to the “bedroom community” of Spring Hill.

We’ve had you enrolled at KinderCare since July 2011; since you were only 8 months old. As of today, you are 4 years, 2 months old.

Dear Jack: Saying Goodbye To KinderCare, Your Preschool Since July 2011

That makes 3 and a half years of your life, more than 80%, in which your daylight hours of weekdays have been spent at KinderCare. That’s a lot of time!

So it’s a big deal that you will no longer be going to school there. Two weeks from today will be your last day there.

You’ll have to officially say goodbye to all the friends you’ve made over the years, along with your teachers.

It’s even a little bit sad for me as well, because I’ll no longer taking you on the hour and a half or more daily round trip commute to school and work with you.

Dear Jack: Saying Goodbye To KinderCare, Your Preschool Since July 2011

Instead, I’ll drive you about 5 minutes to school each day. Then, Mommy will pick you up (earlier than you’re used to) and drive you back home the other 5 minutes.

Imagine that: Just 10 minutes in the car each day as compared to at least an hour and a half!

That’s good. Despite the quality time I’ll miss with you in the car each day, you won’t have to be in the car as much, plus you’ll be in school less than you’re used to, and you’ll get to spend more quality time with Mommy; which you definitely need more of.

It’s a bittersweet symphony, but I believe it’s definitely for the best. I’m looking forward to our family’s future.

Love,

Daddy

The Politics of Making Friends

Sometimes a friend is just that not into you.  As for myself, I live by The Orange Cat Theory.

In 1985, when I began preschool at Mother’s Day Out at the First Methodist Church of Fort Payne, I was introduced to the concept of friendship.  For the first time in my life, really.  Because from ages 0 to 4 all I really knew was family.  But now that I had been dropped off with kids my own age, I began to grasp was a society was.  Within this group of people were even closer groups of people.  Called friends.

The catch phrase of 1985, the thing I heard the most at preschool was this:  “I’ll be your best friend…”  If a classmate of mine wanted one of my cookies, wanted to hold my stuffed animal, wanted to cut ahead of me in line, I heard:

“I’ll be your best friend…”

What went through my head as a 4 ½ year old was, “What if I don’t want you to be my best friend?”  Did my classmates not assume I already had a best friend?  Should my true best friend lose their status with me on account of a cookie?  Did I look like the kind of kid who was “best friend deprived”?

Was it not enough that Alex Igou and I played with our toy fire engine trucks together during “free time?  And that Simon Millazzo and I always sat next to each other everyday as we waited for our moms to pick us up?  And what about the fact that I went over to Russell McElhaney’s house and saw the GI Joe fort his brother made in the backyard and that his mom was the first to introduce me to a delicious dessert called the “brownie”?

The promise to be my best friend was being held over me as a bribe, but I had no interest in taking it.  And this, in 1985, was my introduction to friendship.  Twenty-five years later, I don’t have acquaintances offering their conditional friendship.  Because I know, just like I did as a 4 year-old, friendship shouldn’t have to be conditional.

Yet I still see some complication in adult friendships.  When the relationship is perfectly mutual, 50/50, that’s when things come easy.  But looking back on my lifetime of friendships, even starting around age 10, I can think of several friendships where it wasn’t a 50/50 deal.

I was always the one going to their house; they wouldn’t come to mine.  I was always the one to call them; they wouldn’t call me.  I was always the one to set up plans; they didn’t include me in their own.  I took the initiative in the friendship.  And I never questioned the authenticity of us being friends.  Because it’s in my nature to be the initiator, the one who calls first, the planner.

But by high school, I realized that I felt I was having to “earn” certain friendships.  That I was having to prove myself good enough, or even more illogically, that I was cool enough for them.

It all goes back to the summer of 1988 when my mom took my sister and I to this lady’s house to both choose a pet cat for ourselves.  We got out of our Bronco II and went into the friendly woman’s kitchen, where we saw a litter of kittens.

For some reason I was always drawn to the orange cats (probably had something to do with Morris the Cat).  So I wanted the orange cat in the litter.  I stretched my arm to him.  The orange cat seemed indifferent towards me.  While that was happening, my mom must have noticed the white and brown spotted cat fighting for my attention:  “Nick, pick the cat that comes to you on his own.”  So I walked away with that cat.  I named him Gabriel.  He liked me.

Most importantly, from that day I learned a valuable lesson about relationships:  Choose to be close to the people that show the most interest in you.  Because that’s a sign of a good friend.  Choosing my friends this way has definitely paid off.

And sure enough, the few times I did spend effort on recruiting an “orange cat” for a friend (applies to romantic interests as well) it never worked out.  My Orange Cat Theory has proven true in my own life.  When it all comes down to it, Morris the Cat isn’t as cool as he thinks he is.

The Orange Cat Theory:

As opposed to choosing a relationship based on your own preconceived notions about someone who seems really cool but causes you to reach out to them, instead look around first to see if someone is reaching out for you.  Choose “the cat that comes to you on their own”, not the orange cat.