Dare I say... Routine?

Do I dare say it? We may be establishing a routine? This whole preschool thing has turned us upside down and inside out. But, we're on our fourth week, and we had a good day.

Okay, so I haven't spoken with his morning teacher, but I am declaring it a good day. Why? Because he didn't go to the office today! Hooray! No horrible, Hitler's mommy feeling when I went to pick him up!

Seriously, I have felt so down and depressed with this whole preschool thing. And it wasn't all about missing my Hooter Bear. Sure, I missed him horribly, especially while I was on vacation last week and home all day. But, what was getting to me was that dread pit in my stomach when I went to get him every day.

I would get so horribly rattled by the things that they would tell me:
Hoot hit his teacher.
Hoot told his teacher he was "gonna get her fired!"
Hoot ran with scissors. (Yes, really.)
Hoot poked a kid in the eye.
Hoot slapped at the pregnant teacher.
Hoot wouldn't stop barking. (I never got up the guts to ask if it was a Chihuahua bark or Bolt's Super Bark.)
Hoot had to take his shoes off because he wouldn't stop kicking the door while in the office.
Really, this list could go on and on.

Then, I got in trouble for not signing him in one morning. That really got to me. I mean, I'm not stupid. I run a five million dollar business. I am an intelligent adult. I successfully got him to school, helped him put away his things, told the teacher good morning, got a progress report, then kissed and hugged my love goodbye and left. *sigh*

I know it is all still new, but I felt a little hope this afternoon. There were papers in his box, and they showed very promising work. He hadn't gone to the office. He was polite and in a good mood. Yeah, it felt really good.

Oh, then I followed through with my desperation promise: I returned the power cord to the Game Cube. Yeah, I know. Desperate times, desperate measures. I hated it the whole time they played because Hoot becomes so dang obsessed. But, sometimes you have to take a horrible thing, throw it in the forge, then pound it against an anvil until it becomes something good. It is hot sweaty work, but I guess I can live with it.

Now maybe I can start getting control back into the other areas of my life.