Jumpin' Jesus it's time for school

Well, we got the news today.  Our three year-old daughter is starting school in the fall.  Bryn Mawr.  "American Studies" major, whatever that means.  Either that or pre-school, I can't remember.  Because i've blocked it out.  This is simultaneously so exciting and so terrifying.

I know.  Many of you are saying, "What's the big deal," or "get over it all ready," or "big whoop."  Hopefully you're all thinking the last one because I like to imagine you all as having the vocabulary and emotional maturity of 6th graders.  Then we're at the same level.  

But for us, it's a big step.  She's never been away from us in that sort of environment before.  That sort of savage, winners talk-losers walk, biggest kid gets the Curious George doll environment.  And she's such a tiny Peanut.  

I'm handling it pretty well, overall, I think.  I'm drinking whiskey from a coffee mug(it's black and big it has the white silhouettes of a moose and some pine trees, and it says "Maine, The Way Life Should Be" on it.  Which makes it a perfect vehicle for anxiety/celebratory based drinking, I think.),  listening to Salsa music, and cleaning the house at 11 pm.   I've got it together.  

Get this.  We even know the teacher.  Pretty well, too.  She's the long-time, live-in, significant other of my wife's cousin.  They were over for dinner two weeks ago.  We wrote a letter to the school principal to make sure our daughter got into her class.  My wife the High School English teacher wrote it.  She used all kinds of educator lingo in it.  The gist of the message being "My daughter gets in this specific class, or I come down there and twist off your intellectual nuts."  Have I mentioned I love her? 

The woman who teaches the class is great.  She gives homework!  Thrice (I said it) a week.  By the end of the year, she expects her students to write their name, know their address and phone number, and be able to do some reading.  

I had to quit reading the toddler milestones online because I freak out a little if my kids aren't meeting all of them or surpassing one or two.  Imagine my reaction to the above expectations.  Actually don't, here's a brief synopsis:  In the last two weeks, the Peanut has learned her address and to write the shortened version of her name.  The reading and spelling we've been working on for awhile.  I am such a broken motherfucker.  

Honestly, we don't have a lot of money, so the one leg-up we can give our kids in this crazy, mixed-up world is an education.  And good looks.   The latter in spades.  

But, I know.  I over-react. 

Alright-y.  That was a long, mildly soused post.  I hope you all appreciate it.  And by "appreciate it" I mean "forgive me."

With highest regards,

Homemaker Man

Oh yeah.  Don't forget to vote.  They're still in fourth place.  Let's help'em bring it home.