Movin' on up

Tomorrow, Micah officially begins his transition into Preschool. By Wednesday, he'll be in an honest-to-god preschool class with up to 19 other students ranging in age from 2.5 to 4.5 (!!!!) years old. They have a guinea pig named Jello, an actual Spanish teacher, and their own sign-in sheets they're supposed to fill out all by themselves. He'll get to play on the big playground, the one with the giant slides and basketball hoops. He'll be learning letters and numbers; this week they're teaching them about money.

My brain is having trouble processing this move. I mean, PRESCHOOL? Really? Already? But...but...

Truth is, I know he's ready. He's the oldest kid in the Early Preschool class. He's getting bored with their activities (and being disruptive because of it). He knows all his colors, in English and Spanish. He can recite to 10, and he's getting better at counting. He can verbalize his feelings, wants, and needs. He's ready for bigger, more complex toys than they have in his current room. He wants to play with the big kids; he wants to do what they're doing. He's going to have a blast. He's going to love preschool.

But still. MAH BAYBEE.

Preschool? I'm not old enough for Preschool!"