Today was Eric's open house at preschool. The open house for the preschool he does not want to attend, which is located in our church, which is the exact same preschool his brother attended, and the class which is taught by our good friend, Meghan. He did not want to go. He told me several times in the car that he did not want to go and that he does not like school. I tried to give him a pep talk all the way there and spent quite a bit of time in the classroom showing him how much fun he is going to have.
Eventually he did loosen up and started to play with the other kids (for heaven's sake--most of them were in his class last year and some of them are also in his Sunday School class. Talk about throwing him to the wolves!). All was going well and I thought things were starting to look up when it happened. He was walking (not running, not jumping, not fooling around, not doing anything but walking) when he tripped and cracked his head on the little table next to him. The little table with the safe round rubberized edges to prevent this very thing from happening. He started sobbing and I sat with him assuring him everything was just fine, until I realized that I had blood on my shirt (my white shirt). So then I stood there like an idiot wondering what to do when a couple of moms assured me that Yes, I really should take him in. To the doctor. To get stitches. In 7 years of raising boys, we have never had the injury-related visit to the ER. So it truly took me a few moments to understand that really, truly, this was that time.
Our pediatrician's office took one look at him and ordered us to Children's Hospital. Children's Hospital in Seattle is wonderful. People travel from all over the country (and yes, all over the world) to this hospital. The level of care is unparalleled. And it is very far away from my house and located in one of the most congested area of Seattle. Children's Hospital is situated just outside of the University of Washington campus and traffic is terrible there 24/7. But to Children's we went. Mike met us there and, long story short, Eric received 4 stitches from 2 of the nicest doctors I have ever met.
He got a Popsicle, a Bugs Bunny band aid, and could not wait to get home and tell Ryan all about it. No tears, no whimpering, and now he is racing around the house as if he could leap tall buildings in a single bound.
So much for a great first impression of preschool. I'm sure he'll forget all about it when it comes time for me to drop him off on Monday.