by Cassidy Nunn | photo by Nunn Other Photography –
My earliest vivid childhood memory is the day I discovered preschool. My mum, baby brother and I were at a local playground and I was happily playing alongside a large group of children who were just slightly older than my two-and-a-half years. A whistle rang out and suddenly I found myself alone as the kids all ran away from the playground and formed a line in front of the stairs to the nearby building. I decided that I had better join this line as well, and did so without hesitation. My mum rushed to fetch me from the back of the line, but not before one of the teachers noticed me and my apparent enthusiasm. She sent my mum home with some information on the preschool and encouraged her to send me if I was keen.
The school was in the bottom of a church; there was a carpeted area for sing-alongs, circle time and doing the hokey pokey. Tiny desks with matching teensy chairs took up part of the room while another corner was filled with books, toys and comfy pillows to sit on. I went for half days, giving my mum I’m sure a much-needed break from her energetic toddler. I believe the fact that I still have such fond memories of this time is a testament to the joy and learning I experienced there.
My three-and-a-half year old has just started her first year of preschool. She spent the last while attending an incredible daycare a few days a week; it was a tough decision to leave such wonderful care, but from my own happy memories of preschool I wanted her to give it a try. In B.C., preschool – for ages three to five – is not mandatory, nor is it fully funded, and I realize the enormous privilege we have to be able to send her to such a centre.
At the end of the summer, we were invited to come for a tour of the preschool. My daughter was shy at first, taking the large classroom in slowly, until she spotted the indoor play kitchen. Still holding my hand, she dragged me over and then quickly got to work baking a “chocolate chip, raspberry, strawberry, blueberry and raspberry pie” while her dad and I continued the tour of the rest of the classroom. The fully-fenced outdoor area held a plethora of fun activities for the kids, but of course she immediately spotted the outdoor mud kitchen and quickly got to work concocting a “marshmallow soup for penguins.”
We excitedly shopped for a lunch kit and water bottle, label maker and muddy buddy, checking off the list the preschool had sent us ahead of time. We read books about preschool, which soon became her most requested, and when The Night Before Preschool finally arrived, my husband and I were floored when there was no fussing when we asked her to pick and lay out her outfit in preparation for the morning. We meticulously packed her lunch and had too much fun testing out the new label maker (oh the things we parents get excited about nowadays!).
I wasn’t as prepared as some parents, with a chalk or bulletin board for her to hold announcing her first day of preschool for a photo on the morning of the big day, but she asked to hold her new lunchbox and smiled without being asked so I took that as an encouraging sign. When I picked her up at the end of the first day, anxious and worried that I’d perhaps built up the excitement too much, she came running to me with a huge grin on her face. “Mummy, want to see the pie I made?!” We “ate” some pie together in the sun, her baby sister watching with wide eyes from her perch in her portable car seat, taking in all the surroundings. “I guess we better get you on the waitlist as well,” I whispered to my infant as my older daughter asked over and over, “Mummy, when do I get to come back?!” So far, it seems, a love for preschool runs in the family.
