At every single school my friend applied her son for kindergarten, he was put on the wait-list. In New York, that’s a uniquely uncomfortable position to be in.

I’ve reassured her several times that it will work out. Her son is particularly outgoing, bright, and adaptable.

We both know, however, that if “working out” means getting off the wait-list at one of the schools, it’s possible that it might not work out. There are so many siblings and so many applicants. This process brings out the worst side of raising children in the city today.

“We just could not be having a more stressful week,” this friend wrote in an e-mail. “Absurd as it may sound, since he’s such an easy kid, we may end up with no spot. Ugggh. Anyway, we’re trying to stay positive but are shocked to be in such a crazy position.”

There used to be much more movement on waitlists. But this year, and for the past few as well, there has been very little mobility at all. “Parents know that they need to write ‘first-choice letters’ to the admission heads, informing them that their school is their first choice,” one school administrator said. “This makes it less of a numbers guessing game for the schools, and as a result, they sometimes don’t even need to go to their wait-lists.”

These first-choice letters also help nursery school directors get a better grasp on how to successfully find a kindergarten spot for their 5-year-olds. It’s unlikely, after all, that 30% of the outgoing students are going to get a spot at the same school.

“The director at my daughter’s nursery school kept telling me that the school I thought was a wonderful fit for my daughter was actually not the right place for her,” a friend said. “Over and over, we kept having the same disagreement. Other people who knew my daughter also felt this one school was a match. And then it finally dawned on me that several of her classmates had older siblings at this school and that the father of another classmate had attended the school himself. This is a numbers game, and the chances of my child getting a slot were slim to none.”

What a racket.

I always laugh when I think about a mock rivalry I shared with a college friend, Andy. He attended Trinity while I graduated from Dalton. We pretended that we thought one of the schools was superior to the other, when in fact, we knew that while the schools’ educational philosophies may have differed, our educations were essentially indistinguishable.

When a friend of ours from Seattle, new to the city and trying to grasp the peculiarities of New York City private education, asked us how we had ended up at Trinity and Dalton, Andy told a charming story, showing just how much life in the Big Apple has changed.

“Apparently my parents loved Dalton. It was seen as progressive and creative, while Trinity was more traditional. So my parents applied there, and to other schools as well. But on my way to my interview at Dalton, on the bus, I fell asleep. My mother didn’t have the heart to wake me up, and so that was the end of Dalton,” he said.

Can you imagine that happening today?

Think of all the careful planning that parents put into their children’s applications. Parents stay at home the night before to ensure their children’s early bedtimes before school interviews. Imagine how many parents reschedule their child’s standardized testing because of a bad night of sleep.

I’ve spoken with several school admissions directors who bemoan the position they find themselves in. “Some parents think we take great pleasure in telling them that there are only a few spots available for the next incoming kindergarten, but this is not the case. It feels terrible and it is terrible,” one director said. “So many of us are parents ourselves and we’ve been at the other end, applying our own children to kindergarten and high school and college. But there’s nothing we can do. The numbers are the numbers.”

And they aren’t changing anytime soon.

sarasberman@aol.com