Y Preschool is Where Our Fragile Flower Grows

Lisa Hutchurson with 3 ½-year-old daughter, Maya, at the Thanksgiving play put on by Maya’s Bay View Preschool Class.

Well, it figures. There, in the midst of all the other kids in the Chuck E. Cheese overhead play tunnel, laughing, yelling, crawling – playing – Maya had abandoned all hope and was crying.

At least that’s what I was pretty sure she was doing. She’d appeared briefly in the tunnel’s see-through plastic window (we’d had an agreement — all was well if she could see me through the window). But then her face changed. She pointed and motioned wildly. Then her shadow slunk off about a foot.

I knew we had just jumped to Def Con 1 – or was it 5? (I never remember which one is “really bad” in the movie War Games). But anyway, it seemed like several minutes passed. I readied myself for another Mommy Rescue.

Then her little panic-stricken face appeared. An angelic boy in a striped shirt had led her to the end of the tunnel to climb down. Clutching Naked Baby (this week’s favorite doll), Maya quickly descended from ledge to ledge.

It’s hard to be three. I know – Maya tells me.

And it IS hard. So many rules to learn – like “generally, people wear pants outside the house,” and “if there are no paper towels in the restroom, we don’t just dry our hands on a stranger,” and “picking the kitty up by the head is not, technically, considered ‘loving the kitty.’”

The one thing that HAS been easy for our little fragile flower, surprisingly enough, has been the Four Seasons preschool program at the Bay View Y. After responding to other socialization attempts (that required me leaving her) mostly with hyperventilating and projectile vomiting, Maya has settled quite nicely into preschool at the Y. Maybe it’s because she got to meet many of her classmates before in other Bay View Y programs that let me ease her into independence with gradual steps.

Bay View’s learn-to-swim class, for instance, allowed her to mingle other children while still staying with Mommy. Then came Tumble Bugs, an active play program where her awesome teacher, Miss Kathy, allowed me to hide behind a wall of play mats, peeking around the corner whenever Maya needed reassurance. Or perhaps it’s because there are always at least three or four teachers for her preschool class’s 17 children. (As an only child, Maya always feels most comfortable with adults. It took two months for me to realize that the “friends” she kept talking about were actually her teachers.)

But probably, it’s just that sense of family at the Y – with the same, loving faces day in and day out. Miss Kathy (with her decades worth of preschool teaching experience, sense of humor and “love” tattoo) is right next door with the 2-year-olds. Avery’s there from her swimming class, and so is Danny from Tumble Bugs. And her beloved new teachers, Miss Jeannie, Michelle, Sarah and Debbie, have become recurring characters in her bedtime stories.

Feeling comfortable with this family has allowed Maya to branch out and befriend her peers. Her first real friend, Lia, is coming over for another playdate today. This morning, even though Maya still clung to my leg, she then walked into class holding hands with Lia. (Actually, they each held one hand of Naked Baby, and all three went in together. But I didn’t care. I was half-giggling, half-crying.)

So my Maya is growing, slow and steady – maybe not as fast as other kids – but at a pace she can handle, surrounded by familiar faces. Are more play tunnel crises in our future? Uh … yeah. But in the meantime, we’ve found a place where our fragile flower can bloom.

Lisa Hutchurson