“Mom, don’t come down yet! I want to surprise you!” my nearly 5-year-old son, Ethan, exclaims from the hallway.
“Okay,” I respond, smiling as I linger on the stairs, giving him a moment to finalize his little surprise.
“I’m ready!” he calls out a minute later, proudly wearing his shoes and socks, his favorite hoodie zipped up, and a full water bottle tucked neatly in his lunchbox. He even added a superhero cap to complete his look. In these final weeks of preschool, Ethan is ecstatic about all the things he can do independently.
It’s hard to believe we’re nearing the end of his preschool journey, marking a series of significant milestones: his once few words have blossomed into a vivid vocabulary; he’s swapped crawling for racing, hopping, and leaping; finger-painting has evolved into more intentional artwork; and his emotional vocabulary has expanded beyond just happy, sad, or angry to include thrilled, disappointed, and exasperated.
I’m certain that my youngest will be ready for kindergarten come fall, and so will I. Yet, saying goodbye to these preschool years and this particular phase of motherhood has stirred some nostalgia in me. Here are five heartfelt reasons I’m going to miss preschool:
1. The Freedom of Being Late
With two older kids, the morning rush to get them to school on time is often chaotic and stressful. A late arrival at elementary school can mean missing crucial lessons or even affecting grades. But preschool operates on a different timeline. After my older kids head off, I can enjoy a few more moments with Ethan—like reading one last story or whipping up a batch of playdough cookies—before we head out. These extra minutes together are precious, especially knowing that as he grows, our time for simple joys will diminish.
2. The Art Projects
I know we’ve all joked about the endless stream of “artwork” our little ones bring home. As parents, we graciously accept the finger paintings, tin foil rockets, and nature-inspired collages, secretly plotting to recycle most of it later. However, once kids enter kindergarten, those creative opportunities dwindle significantly. For all my initial complaints about the mountain of drawings and sculptures, I will genuinely miss going through Ethan’s creations as he enthusiastically narrates the tales of his knight, dragon, and oversized bunny.
3. Classroom Connections
Most mornings, I take a few moments to see what’s happening in the classroom—whether it’s observing caterpillars munching on milkweed or saying hello to Ethan’s friends. I cherish these moments of connection. Next year, with the kindergarten day starting promptly at 8:15 a.m., I know I’ll be saying goodbye at the door. This transition to a larger school means fewer chances for parents to engage and connect, making it hard to let go of that close-knit community feel.
4. The Sand Chronicles
Okay, I won’t truly miss the daily deluge of sand that escapes from Ethan’s shoes and ends up all over the car, porch, and kitchen. Yet, I will miss what that sand signifies: the joy of outdoor play—running, building, and exploring. Next year, he’ll be spending more time inside, learning in a different way. While I appreciate the absence of sand, I can’t help but feel bittersweet knowing he’s moving from carefree childhood to the more serious business of being a student.
5. The Supportive Village
When our children are young, we heavily rely on our community to help raise them. In the early years, it’s our moms’ group; in preschool, it’s the other parents and teachers. I know and trust the families in Ethan’s class, as well as the wonderful teachers in each room. They notice if something seems off, like when he might be catching a cold, or keep me informed about important developmental milestones. As he transitions to a larger school, I know he won’t receive the same level of individualized attention, and I won’t be familiar with as many families. This cozy community feel is difficult to replicate in a bigger setting.
Leaving behind these preschool years is no easy feat. I know Ethan and I will adapt to the new routine and will have to work harder at home to engage in creative activities and share stories about our days. For now, I plan to relish these last weeks of preschool with leisurely mornings and plenty of time spent in the classroom. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to rescue some of that artwork from the recycling bin.
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Summary
As my son Ethan approaches the end of preschool, I reflect on the joys and milestones of these formative years. From the relaxed mornings to the creativity flowing from art projects, the classroom connections, and the supportive community, each aspect of preschool has brought warmth to our lives. I’m nostalgic about leaving these moments behind as we prepare for kindergarten, but I am also excited for what lies ahead.