A Long-Winded Post About a Boring Problem That Will Put Even My Closest Friends to Sleep (zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....)

Okay, I`ve got this....problem with our preschool.

First, the background: Little Son attends a very ritzy half-day preschool. It doesn`t think of itself as "ritzy" -- it thinks of itself as "artsy," and perhaps it was, at one time. But who are the kind of people now, who can manage to pay big bucks for just half a day of preschool in expensive San Francisco? Sure, there are some normal people lucky enough to have flexible schedules, but there are also lots of people with serious money.

That`s not the problem. I have no trouble at all dealing with seriously rich people -- hell, some of my dearest friends and relatives fit that description. And the preschool itself isn`t the problem -- Little Son loves it, and the teachers have all been there for years. They are all warm, caring individuals, who have devoted their lives to early childhood education.

The problem is the 11:45 pick-up time, no exceptions. This has nothing to do with any failure on the preschool`s part. This is a structural problem for me and only me.

Last year, Little Son went only on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. This was the only open slot they had, and I grabbed it, because we moved to San Francisco in July and I figured I had the proverbial snowflake in Hell`s chance of getting my little guy into preschool for September. Little Son and I happened to be walking down the street a few blocks from our house, I happened to knock on the preschool`s door, and they happened to have just had a cancellation for the upcoming school year. So we didn`t really "pick" this school -- fate picked it for us.

Last year, my life was very different. I wasn`t working at all, and Au Pair Extraordinaire was a bona fide au pair, earning her keep and her salary by placing our family`s needs first. I had my hands full with the older two kids, who were struggling with school work in English, so Au Pair Extraordinaire was in charge of bringing Little Son to preschool and picking him up. And this worked out fine.

But this year, Au Pair Extraordinaire is not a "real" au pair but just a fulltime student who lives with us, and babysits as needed, with the understanding that her classes come first. And she is in class all day, Monday through Thursday, and can`t pick up Little Son those days.

No problem, I thought. My job is extremely part-time -- I can pick him up. Right?

Now, I should also say that I don`t fit in too well at this preschool. I`m considered one of the "slacker" moms -- I skip most of their outside events because we`re so busy with the older kids` Japanese school and sports events on weekends. Something has to give, and it`s usually the preschool picnic, preschool parents` cocktail party, preschool garage sale, etc. Last year I did go to (and bought stuff at) the major fundraising auction, and I contributed cash toward the end-of-the-year bonuses for the teachers -- isn`t that enough? I thought so.

But... well, there`s more. Little Son brings in Happy Meal toys for "Sharing Day" (their version of show-and-tell), and I`ve been known to slip organic whole-wheat teddy graham crackers into Little Son`s lunchbox, in violation of their "no treats" rule. So I`m not exactly a "mom in good standing."

My worst transgression by far, though, is that since school began less than a month ago, I`ve been late three times to pick him up. This has pushed me out of the realm of "slacker" into the "unreliable flake" zone.

The school`s official pickup time is 11:45. They require people meeting the kids to stand outside the door at pickup time, and they lead the kids out the door one by one, to the people waiting for them. This is all supposed to be done in 10 minutes -- if you arrive after 11:55, you are LATE.

And three times, I`ve arrived at 12:00 -- not terribly late, but late enough for them to read me the riot act. And when I got home each time, there was a message on my phone from them, received, each time, at 11:56, asking, "WHERE ARE YOU? YOU`RE LATE!"

Twice, I had been on the phone with Au Paire Extraordinaire, as she called me from the hospital in Wyoming after their car accident. I was unable to call her back -- she was calling me from someone`s borrowed cell phone. So those times, I judged it to be worth being a few minutes late, and braced myself for their wrath.

Yesterday, though, the third time, I just spaced out, and thought it was Friday, and that Au Pair Extraordinaire was picking Little Son up. Yeah, I know -- it was Tuesday. See above, "unreliable flake." Yeah, I`m worried.

"You need to get this problem straightened out!" the director said to me, as she handed over Little Son.

So I thought about this situation, and decided that this is my problem, not the daycare center`s problem. Their policy is clear, and they have sound reasons for it: the afternoon session kids start arriving at 12:30, so the teachers only have half an hour to eat their lunches and clean up. I don`t blame them at all for enforcing their timely pick-up rule. It is what it is, and I understand why.

But actually, because of my job, I had been thinking about cutting Little Son back to three or four days a week, anyway. He loves this school, but I anticipate sometimes having to go to Japantown during the week, and I know there`s no way I can make that 11:45 pick-up time every time if I do.

Coincidentally, I had an appointment in J-town the day after my latest untimely offense. I had intended to mention it to the school that Little Son would be out, but I was unable to do this -- I mean, it`s not easy to change the subject when you`re getting lectured on your lateness, and your son is being gently pushed out the door to you.

So yesterday afternoon, shortly after my less-than-timely pick-up, I called the director and said I was thinking of dropping a day for Little Son, because of my new job.

I was kind of unprepared for her reaction, especially since she had been justifiably angry with me only a short time before.

"Maybe we can help you, and find another parent who could do it. Can`t you ask a friend to pick him up?" she said. She was very nice and friendly and seemed genuinely concerned.

Now, we have plenty of friends (which always amazes me, that so many kind people willingly put up with emotionally needy homesick freaks like our family). But I want to keep my friends, and so I don`t like to impose on them unless I`m really in a pinch -- and my part-time job doesn`t qualify as a "pinch," because 1) it`s a commitment that I made all by myself, so it`s my responsibility, and 2) whenever I need to send him, Little Son can go to a great babysitter`s house nearby. (Unfortunately, the babysitter doesn`t pick kids up at school, or else she`d be too perfect.)

The director tried to get an idea of exactly what I do for a part-time job, but....well, let`s just say, it`s not exactly what I thought it would be. Yeah, remember my part-time job? Well, it`s going okay, I`m still doing it, but... it`s a long story, but it didn`t quite turn out to be the job I expected, nor is it easily explained. I haven't been blogging about it, and I probably won`t, just because it`s gotten a bit...weird.

Today, for example, I had to meet with a polite, blue-haired Japanese lady about ordering artificial bamboo. It was an appointment that came up kind of suddenly, and couldn`t be rescheduled.

"But what days do you work?" asked the preschool director. "Don`t you have a schedule?"

"Um....no. No, it`s just a few hours a week, but I have to adjust according to the needs of the job," I said.

"Well, that doesn`t sound very reasonable," she said.

I can`t say that I blame her for not understanding, since her working life has a very tight schedule, by necessity. But since I`m used to having my working hours and schedule set according to the breaking news of the day, I`m perfectly comfortable changing my plans on short notice -- except it does make juggling kids more challenging.

The director kept saying, "Little Son is so happy here! We want to figure out how you can solve this problem."

And I kept saying, "I really think it would be best if I dropped a day. I just don`t think it`s a good fit for us."

I assured her it wasn`t about money, in case she was concerned that five days/week was proving too expensive for us, or the part-time job was something I desperately needed to do to make ends meet. It`s not -- it`s just that I made a commitment to this job, and I want to see it through.

So I finally said fine, we wouldn`t even drop a day -- I would even continue to pay for 5 days/week. But sometimes Little Son would be missing some days of preschool and going to his babysitter`s house instead, because I didn`t want to risk ever being late to pick him again.

She was, um... upset by this. Apparently, her concerns had less to do with losing a paying student for a day on their books, and more about losing Little Son in particular.

"But he`s so happy! We love having him here everyday! He gets so much more out of preschool than he does at a babysitter`s house!" she said, which may be true, but I suppose it depends on the babysitter.

Then she asked me, "Do you have to do this job? He`s your last child, and he`ll be in school all day so soon...."

I had told her he would be our last child, and I enjoyed spending time with him. I was still kind of surprised that she brought this up. Was she trying to make me feel guilty? She doesn`t seem like that type of person -- I think she just blurted it out, thinking mainly of Little Son.

But I wasn`t surprised at how UN-guilty I felt, about doing a part-time job. Hey, I went back to work at a wire service when Little Son was 14 weeks old -- I`m pretty immune to guilt at this point.

So Little Son skipped preschool today, and went to the babysitter`s house for a couple of hours while I had my meeting.

What will the preschool folks say to me tomorrow? I am not looking forward to seeing the director face-to-face.

But as long as I`m alive and conscious, I resolve this: I will never be late to pick up Little Son again. On the whole, I`d rather be an evil working mom than an unreliable flake -- but I will certainly do my best to avoid being an evil, unreliable, flakey, working mom.

Let`s just say, been there, done that... (shudder).....