The kiddo starts school tomorrow.
What, what? Is he even two yet?
No. He is 22.5 months old, and has already been accepted to Harvard. Lucky us!
The thing that starts tomorrow, the thing that we have been referring to as "school" is actually two two-hour days per week of throwing sand, riding trikes and eating play dough. It's kind of like junior preschool, or maybe play school. It's also a parent cooperative, so he's someone else's problem now, in addition to my own. It takes a village, right? It's less casual than a playgroup, but not as advanced as preschool. My hope is that it will a great place to learn new and exciting ways to tire him out and that we can all make some friends who won't soon tire of listening to me talk about being the parent of a toddler. Because that's pretty much all I talk about these days
I haven't really considered this to be any bigger of a deal than swim lessons, baby gym, or any other regularly-scheduled, paid enrichment activity we've done so far, but as tomorrow edges closer, I'm definitely feeling like my little baby is somewhat less of a baby these days--which is, of course, bittersweet.