When Bryce was three, we enrolled him in preschool. It was just a regular, run-of-the-mill preschool that met for the standard 2-1/2 hours three days a week. The next year, when he was four and Annie was 2-1/2, they continued at the same preschool. We loved the school and I loved having a little bit of free(er) time, especially last year when we had a new baby.
Last winter I started looking into preschool options for Annie for the current school year. I came to discover that there really weren't many in the suburb we were moving into. She could either go to daycare (sorry, no) or to the wickedly expensive Montessori school or to Mom's Day Out (5 hours twice a week, often doesn't have a curriculum) or stay at home with me. We did try to get her into the one Mom's Day Out program that came highly recommended, but it had a waiting list a mile long (last I heard, we were still number 9 on that list, but it hasn't budged).
Over the summer, a group of girls in our ward asked us to join their preschool co-op. I was very wary initially, mainly because as much as I love my own kids, I'm really not all that fond of other people's offspring. But when I learned that even the second-rate Mom's Day Out programs cost about $200 a month for two days a week, I decided to change my tune and join the co-op. For the most part it has gone well. Annie looks forward to going to school. We've had no major blow-ups among the moms or among the kids. She seems to be learning (but since she already reads a little bit and can do long addition, I don't think she really needs the refresher on shapes and colors-- sorry for that shameless brag).
But I hate the two weeks every other month I have to teach. I dread it. Stay up nights thinking about how much I hate it. I just can't stand it.
And I don't quite understand why. I mean, I was a teacher, a real teacher, for heck's sake, in past life. If I could effortlessly handle a classroom of 30 eighth graders, then why do five preschoolers intimidate the crap out of me? I hate prepping for it, hate setting it up, hate taking it down. I don't actually hate it when the kids are at my house, but every other aspect of it I hate, hate, hate.
The only thing that consoles me is when I tell myself that for my 3-4 hour output of time (including prep, setup and cleanup), I earn the eqivalent of $100 ($400 for two months of preschool divided by the four times I teach). That helps a little. But only a little. In fact, it makes me feel like I need to go shoe shopping.
Eddie thinks I should bail next year. If all goes as planned, I'll have a baby during the year, and the idea of trying to teach while also occupying a newborn and a toddler makes me want to scream (can you imagine nursing a newborn while giving a lesson to five preschoolers?). Three of the five kids in our group (the ones with dads in grad school) will probably go to Head Start next year. But the other remaining mom and I could easily combine with another group and keep the co-op alive. But the other problem is that now I'm cheap. I thought nothing of paying $250 a month for Bryce and Annie to go to preschool last year, but now that we've done it for free, I'm having a hard time swallowing the idea of paying for the second-best Mom's Day Out in town.
We will have a little bit more money this year than we did last, but I don't want to blow it in one big preschool chunk. On the other hand, I'd love to be free from the shackles of the co-op.
If you were me, what would you do?
--originally published 2/23/06
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