Ay Caramba.

Hey friends- there's trouble in River City. Trouble with a capital T. My oldest daughter, Annie- is once again, shaking the roof of sensibility at her local preschool.

I wasn't always a perfect kid- but I was the absolute utmost Pleaser. I LOVED to please people (not so much anymore) but would do anything to be the teacher's pet. I never went to the office ...not once. The same, after today's chaos, cannot be said for my Annie.

Apparently, she hit her teacher. Hit her pretty hard. Annie wasn't "transitioning well" (i.e. didn't want to come in from recess) and her teacher was going to bring her inside. That's when Annie hauled off and smacked her in the chest. Annie says "My teacher was not being gentle with me, so I hit her." Either way, things are not looking good.

This has me freaked out on a myriad of levels.
1. If Annie is already being sent to the office and smacking her teachers around at age 3.5- what the heck happens in kindergarten? Is she going to be a tattooed, muscle baring bully that refuses to outline her name in kidney beans?

2. If Annie has already learned a complete disregard for authority- what kind of fun will she have in college? Is my child a Libertarian before the age of 4?

3. And here's the big one- I told Annie on the way home, that it wouldn't be unrealistic to expect her camp to kick her out if this kind of behavior continues. And then, holy cow- Dear Reader, someone please put me out of my misery with a mild sedative. Those 12 hours a week rejuvenate me. They revive me. They prevent me from drooling and singing Wonderpets songs to myself.

So, no television for a week (Oh help me), I'm feeding the kids dinner long before Matt gets home and moving bed time up by an hour. I've also scheduled an appointment with my pediatrician for some parenting advice. I'm plum out of ideas.