Preschool

No exercise today, unless you count my playground activities.

I have been looking for a preschool for Boomer. At the company picnic, I realized he really needs, and would love, to play with kids his age. Today I went and saw two, thought I might like one, and at the director's suggestion, brought him back there at 3PM for a visit.
The kids were adorable, my son behaved admirably and enjoyed himself immensely, but there were, unfortunately, several problems I noticed, and they can't be ignored.

Huge metal pipe along one of the fences, huge hole in the chain-link, where kids were sticking their heads, playground equipment not secured, rubber liner coming up, (very easy to trip and fall) through lots of gravel, which kids were throwing, and worst of all, not enough caretakers, 'cause I had to step in and move some kids out of harms' way, not once but several times. The caretakers were not teachers, and they kinda stood there, not really watching the kids, not really engaging them.

The kids kept coming to me for lots of things: to tell me they had to go potty, to yell, "Watch this!" to give me rocks, to help them get rocks out of their shoes, to get hugs, to show me the flowers and trucks on their shirts, to growl like a monster... It seemed, to me, that the kids were lacking attention. There were so many wonderful, adorable 3-year-olds that I wanted to take home with me. One little black girl, Leeah, with a gorgeous head of cornrows and a smile like sunshine, kept coming over to give me hugs, calling me Mommy. I got down to her level and she sat on my knee. A little boy named Thomas, with bright blue eyes and blond hair, came over to Boomer the first instant and kept interacting with him. What a sweetheart that child was.
A little girl with long, long brown hair, bright brown eyes, kept wanting to talk to me and tell me things. One very intelligent little boy told me the cameras made him nervous, and asked me why they were there.
I wished I could get their family names and numbers, so we could make a playdate.

Boomer bounded all over the place, going from one slide to the other, asking kids to please get out of the way (not sliding on top of others, as I saw many do, with the caretakers doing nothing about that) laughing and showing everybody whenever an airplane flew overhead.

Unfortunately, I was very worried about all the above issues.
In addition, an overdressed, overcoiffed, and over-jewelry-bedecked (at a kids' center?) woman came over, testily asking if she can help me. "What are you doing here? Do you have a child here? Which one is your child?"
I pointed him out, she looked at Boomer, and said, "Oh, my God."
WTF?
She then went on, rudely, to tell me that I can't be there and asked how much longer I intended to stay.
I told her I had arranged for a visit, and that I was told I could bring my son that afternoon.
She answered just as rudely, then walked away, and I had to ask one of the caretakers who the hell was this nasty woman.
Turned out it was the assistant director.
I couldn't believe this.
This was how she treated a potential customer?
I decided it was time to go.
Boomer, unfortunately, was of another opinion. The poor little guy did not want to leave, started following me, crying, because I began to walk away when he would not go with me, then refused to get in his car seat, and all the way home begged me to turn around and cried the kind of gasping, desperate crying that shreds a mother's heart.
I can't find the words to describe my disappointment.
Tomorrow I have two more places I want to check, because his reaction really proved that he should be in preschool.
Oh, and I got the hot sauce package today. More on that tomorrow.
All I have time to say right now is, if you want to breathe fire like a dragon, just have some Dave's Insanity sauce.