Fire Drills

A few weeks ago I picked Graeme up at school (the glorified way in which I refer to his day care center to make myself feel better about sending him) only to find that he was in time-out for refusing to wear his coat on the playground when it was 40 degrees outside. Graeme hasn't fully adjusted to school and has had a good share of "acting out" moments, so each day when I retrieve him I brace myself for the report from his teachers. Finding him in time-out wasn't a great surprise, but heart-breaking nonetheless.

While I was chatting with him teacher about the latest transgression Graeme was climbing around on some benches near us. Next thing I know the fire alarm is going off in the building and I turn to see Graeme's hands on the pull lever and his eyes wide. They weren't quite the "oh-shit, I've done something wrong" eyes. More the "oh-wow, that's a loud sound, wait I'm scared" look. I shared the "oh, I'm scared" look because I was sure we were going to be kicked out of school...both of us.

The Director quickly came running and ushered everyone out of the building. The two year olds were scared and the babies were crying while being shoved into cribs on wheels and pushed into the parking lot. (Recall, it was only 40 degrees, and starting to drizzle at this point.) I apologized several times and to the school's credit they took it in stride, claiming that they were due for a fire drill. Given that no one seemed to know what to do it clearly was a needed drill, but I was a bit embarrassed to be part of the cause.

We sat around with the rest of the nervous children and waited for the fire truck to arrive, which quickly became the focal point and relieved any fears the kids were experiencing.

Is this what it means to have a precocious child?