Flunking pre-K

When H. attended the preschool which costs roughly triple what I paid for undergrad, I really thought the report cards were just a courtesy. I mean really; 5 exhaustive pages of evaluation for a 3 year old? So for those parent-teacher meetings, I figured all the sunshine being blown up my ass about my brilliant child was just because I was writing a lot of big checks to them.

So it was somewhat shocking to go for my first sit-down regarding N. Turns out, they do check those other boxes sometimes. After the first 5 or so minutes I was having visions of the short bus and the "special" class. Oh Lord, what did I do? was it the coffee during my pregnancy? Or my somewhat early delivery, which occurred because I prayed so hard for it and I had a foot massage which probably knocked him loose? Was it because I really hated being pregnant? The drugs in the 7th month to aid the passage of the kidney stones?
Should I hire tutors? Maybe it was the 2 tuna melts, even though I specifically ordered them to hold the mercury?? "Pearl Jam" Black album. That must have been it, with it's dour lyrics and loud noises. I used to listen to it all the time during my pregnancy. Most of the time felt like howling along with Eddie Vetter.

Soon reality set in . He's only just turned friggin 4. He has to do another preK year anyway because of his September birthday. Holy shit am I loosing my mind, or what? Priorities, always priorities. It's not like he has a heart defect or red hair. Time to refocus and concentrate on the things that are really important, like my manicure which got ruined by me picking away during my parent teacher meeting. That bitch teacher, she's ruining my life.