Rapping knuckles

Today I signed Evelyn up for preschool. She'll start in January, about a month before we close on the house. It will be a long month of driving her all the way up to our new neighborhood, but we felt it was better than making all the bazillion changes she'll experience with this move in one day. So one month of seriously annoying driving is nothing compared to a happy child.

We enrolled her in a Catholic school. Yep, Catholic. Like nuns-in-habits-rapping-her-knuckles-with-a-ruler Catholic. Except her preschool teachers look to be about 15 years old, so I'm pretty sure they aren't nuns. But they also have giant smiles, warm handshakes and nice things to say, so maybe they are. What do I know? Their participation in the community of women religious is really not my concern.

In fact, I have no concerns with sending her to a religious-based preschool. We might have to start telling her about church and God and Jesus and mass and religion, but only in the three-year-old context, which I'm pretty sure is low-level stuff. She will go to mass once a month with her class, and her school is full of crucifixes and pictures of the Pope and paintings of saints, but I don't think Evelyn will ask a lot of questions about those. If we really love this school and she ends up going there for a few years, we'll probably have to dive into more serious religious topics, which means I'll have to spend a little more time sorting out my own religions questions. However, good schools come in all sizes, and I think this will be one of them.

With the new school comes a lot of changes, including packing a lunch. I am (re)newly obsessed with adorable bento boxes and fun bento accessories. I'm hoping that if I make her food look a little fun she might actually eat something more than Pirate Booty and corn dogs.

Look at this. So cute, right?

I am so ecstatically excited about Evelyn going to a real bonafide preschool. She has been languishing in her daycare for the past 6-8 months, but we didn't want to move her before we relocate. Maybe languishing isn't the right word. She has outgrown the daycare. She knows all her colors and shapes, she knows a lot of her letters, she knows all the animals and how to play with all the toys. She is the oldest kid there and way too smart to be spending most of her time with 18-month-olds. I have a feeling her mind will blossom in a new age-appropriate environment. I think her spirit will expand when she gets to play with a whole room of children her age. I think it will be amazing.

 So bring it on, preschool. We are totally ready.

(Now ask me about it in three months and I'm like to tell you a different story. Let's just pretend I will be spry as new glass...)