"And Mom and Dad can hardly wait for school to start again..."

"Is that true, Mom?" asked my son when that song was on the radio a couple of days ago.

"Ask me in a couple of weeks and I'll let you know," was my response.

What is it that makes kids so excited to get out of school for two weeks. Correct that, kindergartners. I mean, it's not like kindergarten isn't big fun time, and my son tells everyone how much he loves it. So why the rush to be out of school? Do they read it from the teachers' faces or the kids who have big brothers and sisters? Why the rush?

It seems like they are out an eternity from school these days. Not just the 23rd or 24th, but the whole week before and after Christmas. It's enough time to enjoy time with family AND friends. I feel a little relieved myself. That is, until my kids start fighting.

Snow days

I learned some valuable lessons during our first official snow day:


1) That phone tree is so helpful and friendly, but very, very early in the morning. It’s like a snooze alarm that goes off 2 hours before you really want to get up on your newly-declared day off.

2) The term “snow day” is somewhat confusing for kindergarteners, particularly with no snow on the ground.

3) Snow days come with built-in parenting expectations of fun and fabulousness that are difficult to live up to. Days off are supposed to be filled with special, snow-day awesomeness involving complicated crafts, cookie-making, or fort-building. It has to be more than just your average Saturday—moms are required to bring the fun home, without a trip to Target. Tough.

4) I’m not sure how it is for SAHMs, but for this part-time mom, a whole day off with kids, with crafts, is rather exhausting. It’s much easier and more restful to just go to the office.

5) A full day of togetherness for 3 people who do not normally spend that much time together in the home results in a roller-coaster emotional effect. The transition between “wow mommy! This is the best day ever!” to a tattle-telling whinefest is very quick and leaves the rider a bit dizzy. The injury report list is a long one.

Class gift

It's Christmastime. They can't call it that at school, but they can paint pictures of santa and take a two week "holiday" but just not talk about Christmas. Fine. But should we still have to give the teacher a christmas gift? Of course. Naturally, I want to do something nice with the person who spends the most time with my child. So, I'd already planned a gift. Nothing big, but a token of my appreciation.

Last week I got an email from one of our two class moms. She wants to give everyone the opportunity to go in on a class gift, which sounds quite nice. The card will include all children, regardless of whether we pitched in.

So, here's the question: should we particpate in the class gift or a personal gift? If we do one, does it really remove the need to do both, or will that be expected anyway? If my gift is less exciting than the class gift, will my child be shunned by the teacher and be forced to learn from the hallway? Help.

Nickels and dimes

Do any of you grade school moms feel nickel-and-dimed to death this time of year? Maybe it's not just seasonal, maybe it's a regular thing. But it seems like every time I turn around, there is another fundraiser, classroom supply purchase, t-shirt, picture something that I am supposed to support. In the last two weeks, we'd been asked for 18 eggs, 12 juice boxes, 24 fruit snacks, holiday magnets from the school pictures, $5 for a school dance fundraiser, and that might be it. Doesn't that seem a lot for one child? I thought so.

It's not that I don't want to help, or be financially supportive of classroom activities, but I do wish that they could do all of this up front. Send home a note that says, "I know you want to support your child's learning experience this year. Your contributions help us supplement our school funds with supplies for additional activities. Instead of my asking for $5 every other week, I'm asking that you pledge an amount up front to help with activities: $5/month, $50/year, or the "Other/I don't want my kid to have fun or learn" box.

I know this is not getting better, it will only get worse. I just wonder if there isn't a better way?

Thanksgiving feast

Thanksgiving is a big deal in kindergarten. They've been working up to it for weeks. They talk about Indians-- what tribe, how many, what they wore. Until my kids started preschool, I had never thought about what TRIBE of indians were a part of the feast. I just thought they were, you know, American. My bad.

They talk about pilgrims. In fact, my son thought dressing up today was a good idea, in case he decided to be a pilgrim. Pilgrims dress up in sweaters, apparently.

And, they choose. No one pressures them or labels them "pilgrim" or "indian" for the day-- oh no, we wouldn't want to offend anyone. So they get to pick. My son was debating his options at the dinner table last night. At least one of the advantages of being an indian wasn't being half-naked or anything.

They make thanksgiving turkeys with feathers that say what they are thankful for. (My daughter's said "swimming and seeds." Who knows what that means?)

If we made Thanksgiving nearly half as big a deal at home as they do at school, maybe we'd raise kids that know a little bit more about history and recognize what they have to be thankful for. I read a quote today that referred to being generally thankful as being a purely American trait. In most other cultures, they have very specific things for which to give thanks-- school. plumbing, clean water. I hope that this year at our house, we'll follow the school's example and give each person an opportunity to express genuine thanks for the blessings in his life.

6th Grade Buddies

At our elementary school, each kindergartener is paired with a 6th grade buddy. At least, I think each one is-- I hope it's not a special kids thing. Anyway, the sixth graders come down to their class and spend time reading and doing projects with them; it seems to happen monthly.

Today he brought home a Happy Thanksgiving card from his buddy, we'll call him George. George says nice things about my son being funny and such. It's really sweet, and I can tell that my son really looks up to him.

What I wonder is, does George really like my son? Or is it some sort of set up or threat? If they met in the hallway, would he say hello? Or is it just a class assignment.

I'm sure it doesn't matter at all to my son, and he benefits anyway. I just wonder if it's as fun being a buddy as having one.

Red table go, Green table stay

My son was moved from one four-person table to another in class yesterday. My motherly wisdom tells me this is not just for fun. We were worried about a friend sitting at his last table-- they tend to get in trouble together-- so I am not surprised.

Are these 4-people tables conducive to learning? It seems like sitting at a desk by yourself would be a much easier way to learn without being distracted by others. Less fun? Maybe, but isn't that the point?

Do all classrooms have these group tables now? What's better, social interaction or isolation? Discuss.

Wanted: Suitable Playground Buddies

WANTED
Playground buddies for kind-hearted kindergarten boy, more interested in role-playing than kickball. 1-2 years playground experience maximum. Must love Star Wars, fake battles, and chasing the occasional girl. Superpowers preferred. Absolutely no pranksters, false friends, or tattle-tales. No one likes that. Please send application to Elementary Mama ASAP.

I never thought I'd dread bedtime stories

I've been working with my kindergartener on reading. For those of you who have experienced the agony of a child who is learning to read, you'll relate.

We were reading before bed, which is a pattern I started in utero. Our kids have more books than the school library. Yet, no reader. So, we work on it before bed. He's definitely a phonics kid-- and he sounds out all the words like they must teach him to do at school. So, we read. It's excrutiating. I mean, I'm thrilled at how much he's progressed since starting school, but by the time we finish a sentence, even I have no idea what it meant. I have to go back and reread the page, just to get a concept of what the book is about. But he's trying. Really he is.

I have a friend whose daughter is a speed reader, and I'm totally jealous. I'm not trying to brag or anything, but I literally do not have any memories of learning to read. I read at 3, and had a mostly-photographic memory, so if I learned a new word, I remembered it. This does not seem to be my son's learning style. I get that. Everyone is different.

I'm just trying to decide if my kid is normal, or if he's struggling more than he should. Have you felt that way with reading, or math, or whatever? I think of him as such a smart kid, but the reading is slow going. What should I do next? Help.

The feathers in my cap

Last week, we had another case of preschool craft/kindergarten craft syndrome, where my kids who are 3 years apart did the same craft on the same day. Whatever. You can never have too many indian headdresses at Thanksgiving, that's for sure.

But my son's came with the added instruction that the kids in his class get feathers for being good. What defines being good, I ask? "Well, you can get in trouble one time," he says, "but not two times." Okay. So each day he gives me a feather report.

The first day, feather.
Second day, no feather-- there was some feather crisis where the feathers were subquality (read: not from Ralph Lauren or something), and so no one got feathers
Third day, no feather. Yesterday the story was that he wasn't sure who got feathers or why, but he thought his teacher didn't see him doing good things, which of course he did.

So, of course, I'm thinking about asking the teacher to define the qualifications for feathering, so that I know what it means when he gets and doesn't get a feather. I think this definitely qualifies as micro-managing my child's education, don't you?

Fundraising Nightmare

We've already done frozen food. Now my daughter's preschool is doing cookie dough. Then on Friday, in walks my kindergartner announcing "Mommy! Great news! We're selling coupons!" Well, I do like a good coupon, but much to my dismay, the coupons are nothing less than, you guessed it, the $20 Entertainment book. Of course, all the other schools sold those 6 weeks ago, and when we started frozen food I made a rookie mistake by assuming we were not doing Entertainment books. I bought one from someone else.

So, guess who's going to end up with two books? I guess we could just send back the one they cleverly send home, but I feel that would tag my son as a "non participator" for life. Sucker.

Math whiz

What really constitutes being a math genius in Kindergarten? I know counting to 100 is a big deal-- we've read Miss Bindergarten Celebrates the 100th day of Kindergarten and all that. My son likes to practice the counting to 100 by ones, fives, and tens. I guess one does need to be able to do that.

It appears we what we used to call equations are now "math sentences," and I assume they are to be memorizing 1+4=5 and all that. I think my son really digs on this math stuff, because he enjoys the quizzing we do at home.

The counting and such done in Kindergarten really doesn't seem to be advancing the skill set beyond what they've learned in Pre-K, does it? I know, not every kid had preschool, but we're not going to beat the Chinese counting to 100. I think I'm taking this all way to seriously.

The Real Housewives of Elementary School

Last Friday was party day. We had a true Halloween party, whereas a lot of schools just have a "fall party." I wonder why it's okay to have Halloween at some and not others, and I also wonder why Halloween is still given a name, when Christmas/Kwanzaa/Hanukkah is not. Whatever. Pagan holidays about bloodshed, okay. Religious holidays about warm fuzzy stuff, not.

What an experience. I signed up to help with the party, as any good part-time working mother would do. What I did not expect was the pretentiousness that invaded the school for this relatively simple party. Each classroom in the same grade level has the same party, so no one will feel bad about having a better or worse party than the other kids. The mummy game is okay, but we can't let the kids wrap each other because someone will feel left out. Every mom who wants to help can, even though there are 15 moms in a class of 24.

And many of the moms? Let's just say that, though I've never seen the Real Housewives series, I am pretty sure we have some moms who are auditioning. $300 designer jeans, Burberry shopping bags with costumes, designer t-shirts were the norm. Not the exception, the norm. I always pick something that I think looks good, yet is highly washable for unknown kiddie chaos. Apparently that is the wrong thought process. Looks are more important. It's all about me, not the kids. My agenda, my schedule, my looks, my reputation. Including what costume my kids are wearing. All about me.

Wow, what a disappointment. Is this just my school? The "elite" grade school? I mean, we are still in public school, aren't we? When we had leftover toilet paper from games (lots of it!), they were trying to figure out what to do with it. I suggested giving it to the local battered women's shelter or social services and the room mom looked at me like "What in the world is that?" A friend said that I have an educational opporutnity in front of me. It's going to be a long 9 years in this school, is all I'm saying.

Do any of you have these women at your school? What's the deal? Comment!

Wow, the number of employees at the school these days!

So, I went to have lunch with my son on Monday, and he was at the nurse. He's averaging about 1 trip a month to the nurse, but never gets sent home. I'm not sure if he's a hypochondriac in the making or what (though he was sick one of those times).

Anyway, I found him in the nurse's office, by way of his classroom. I walk in, two happy meals in hand. The place is packed, and the kids are eyeing my meals. There are probably 6 kids in there, and two employees, plus one para with a sick kid. My kid's not even been looked at. They can't figure out why I'm there. You can see it in their eyes, "Did we call her already?" So I tried to explain. That whole explanation came about 5 minutes after I walked in though, because they were busy!

I don't know about you, but when I was a kid, my mom volunteered in the nurse's office. I don't remember there being a real nurse at the school, but maybe there was and she was a helper. The nurse's office at my elementary school was a room off of the main office with tile floors, a small desk, and a doctor's office cot-type thing. That's it.

The modern nurse's office seemed quite different. First of all, there seemed to be an actual nurse. Now, I don't know if she was LPN, RN or what, but she looked very official in her scrubs. Plus, she has a paid helper. I can tell she's paid by her nifty name badge. Frankly, it looked like she needed all the help she could get. The office had 3 doctor's cots in the main room and a couple of chairs, though it was a little crowded. Plus it had two separate rooms. I guess if you're really sick, they isolate you in there. Who knows? Anyway, I was impressed with the layout set aside for the school nurse.

The good news is, paid assistants mean no volunteer requirements in the nurse's office. I would hate that. I don't like touching people anyway, much less sick kids who I'm not biologically required to serve.

What does the nurse's office look like in your school? Is it plush? Do you volunteer there? Are my memories of kiddie nurse's office way off? Who knows? You do. Comment.

Elementary Mama on overload

Just an update for those of you keeping score:

The P/T conference went great. My child is doing fine in school, he's just a little "physical," which we clarified means not aggressive, but handsy. That is possible. A friend at church said they've caused it by being so affectionate all the time. Could be. Who would have thought that one of my kids would be handsy. Huh.

Elementary Mama is on near melt-down status today with way way way too much going on. So instead of missing another day of posting, I've decided to refer you to a site I think could be an excellent companion to this one: I'm A Kindergarten Teacher, the blog. Now you can support equal time in media by checking out both sides of the coin: http://imakindergartenteacher.blogspot.com/

Hoping to come back from the quagmire of my life tomorrow... Here's a tease: The School Nurse, not just the mom from down the block anymore. Discuss.

The big day

So this is it. Parent/teacher conference day. I think my hopes for the conference will most likely be quickly dashed. Here's what I expect:
- A full report of our recent "trouble" issues. Why? How much? Is he on the road to juvie or what?
- An otherwise glowing report of my student and his honor potential
- Special treatment and acknowledgement for being an "involved" parent
- The teacher will not be trying to push us out as fast as possible, but instead LOVE talking about our son and his class

Right. None of that will happen. If I'm lucky, we'll get a report card, some small discussion of his behavior, and a few special art projects to go.

I'll update tomorrow.

Classroom chaos

Well, not chaos exactly, but when my son reports not one, but two exciting things in one day of school, I know that things must have been crazy! I am sure the teacher is counting the hours to the three half/off days coming up this weekend, though she has to meet with parents to get those, which may be worse.

Apparently there was a bit of a smack-down yesterday in kindergarten, where one kid, a close friend of my son's, hit another kid hard enough to give him a sizable bruise on his upper arm. The provacation? The other boy blew on him in line. The punishment was missing all of center time, according to my son, but I'm wondering if there wasn't more to that. Surely the punishment for socking a kid would be significantly worse than for touching or talking in class?

And, as if that is not exciting enough, another kid vomited! Whoa! This was towards the end of the day, and at a different table. Attention media: sickness in the schools! (h1n1 is probably another post for another time, but for now, let's just say that illness is taken pretty seriously around the school district.)

At least I got some news from his day. It was almost as good as gossip!

I need help!!! Comment please!

Okay, so yet another evening elementary school activity is on the horizon: literary night. Apparently there are activity stations and a reading of some story by some author. You know, good stuff. Especially for my new reader, right?

The exact day I sent in my RSVP (I know, right?), someone in the civic organization I'm in set a meeting for the exact same time, 30 minutes away. And it's a biggie. Very important. Presence required.

So what do I do? How important IS literary night anyway? Is it going to be like museum night, when we were the only ones there? Or is it going to be like school picnic night where everyone was there? Please, weigh in. Lend me your ears-- no, your advice. Please!

Sucker!

I have learned in my short experience as a grade school mom that PTA is a relentless marketing machine. Their strategy: remind kids of upcoming events and announce them the day of with special take-home stickers! That way, each child comes home announcing "It's Culver's Night!" or "It's skating night!" or whatever, with such triumph and jubilation, that your brief, but firm explanation of why you weren't planning on attending has the impact of a sledgehammer. As a mom, I picture their little dreams of popularity and camaraderie dashed upon the shoreline like waves upon the rocks. And I, am the dreamsmasher.

No longer can I think of myself as the fun parent. Or imagine myself as a staunch supporter of the school and its many programs, for I refuse to engage my child in every possible marketing scheme, I mean, school outing that comes along. I've suddenly become a hater.

So, I caved. We went. You know what? We were one of maybe 10 families there. No exaggeration. Of the hundreds of students in the school, only 10 of us succombed to the marketing machine. Drat.

What do you do? Do you feel like you have to attend every school function? How do you say no to the tears welling up in their little eyes as you insist that they will not be the only one of their classmates not attending? I'm open to suggestions. Perhaps the fact that none of his classmates attended tonight will help with future outings. Wishful thinking, I know.

A new kind of teacher

When at school yesterday, I noticed something startling about the teachers: they were so cool! They were dressed all hip and trendy, in appropriate and professional ways, and talked to the kids using terms like "buddy" and "friend."

When I was a student, most of the teachers seemed so OLD and wore seasonal sweaters and maybe, on spirit day, wore mom jeans. I don't remember even placing them in the same category of hip-ness as my mother and her friends. Many seemed way older, and the ones who weren't, were still sort of teachery.

My experience at the kids' preschool was tainted by teachers dressed to be messy and change the proverbial diaper or kool-aid spill. The really disconcerting part is the odd way in which they spoke to the children-- all soft and smooth, encouraging calmness and properly focusing our emotions. Now they talk all the time about being safe and understanding our feelings. Last week I saw a 2-year-old throwing a fit in the hall and the teacher, in a voice like butter, said, "Now, it looks like you're not feeling very patient right now, but it's important that we are patient and help mommy put on your coat. Are you feeling impatient?" I stood in awe, wanting to see if that technique would work.

At elementary school, I was in awe at the teachers. Now, more of them are my age, so my perspective has definitely changed. But even in my trendy-mom volunteer finest, I felt dowdy compared to my son's teacher, in her black dress, knee-high boots and tights. Whoa. And when they spoke to the kids, it was a tone of authority and camaraderie, not condescending or overly benevolent. It was great.

I asked my son if his teacher always dressed so cool, and he said, "Yeah." I'm sure a lot of my perception is a difference of perspective, but it couldn't hurt for the kids to learn from teachers who are a tad more hip than ours were.

I am now, I mean NOT, my mother

Today was my first voyage as a library volunteer. I dressed in what I would call responsible, yet stylish, mom attire. But when I walked out of the door, it hit me: I'm my mother.

Not that being my mother is bad thing. But I had this immediate flashback to walking into the library in elementary school, and seeing my mom in her responsible, but stylish, mom attire. (Of course, those were the 80s, so her clothes featured bigger hair and bigger glasses.) Wow. Sitting on the other side of the desk is a totally different perspective.

I happen to volunteer during my son's library time. So I'm feircely alphabetizing, while trying to keep one ear, one eye, on my son. Is he being unruly? Is he answering the questions? Is he a hand-raiser or not? But more importantly was the wave and the "That's my mom!" I got when he entered the room. Ah, approval. Whew.

Is that what my mom was thinking as she sat behind the desk? Was that really all about me? I know that it was, and even then I knew she was wanting to help out, but that wait for approval, the one eye out for the books being selected. I had no idea how proud she must have been to see me there with my class, to get a short glimpse inside the walls.

Well, I managed not to embarrass myself as a volunteer, I think. I spoke when spoken to, I knew my alphabet, I worked hard. We'll see what they think the next time it's my turn.

How Many Kids? AKA Total Chaos?

At the start of school, our kindergarten class was 23 kids. I think. The snack list requested 25 snacks. At our introductory tour (new parent hazing), they informed us that 25 was the most possible by state law-- if all 3 classes had 25, they'd add a new section. Maybe. Something like that.

This month, the snack list said 24. They lost a student? Someone transferred? Teacher no longer needs a snack? Whatever. 24 it is.

Then tonight at dinner, my son started talking about the new letter experts-- pairs. The Monday Mail had warned us of letter pairs, so I was expecting SHHHHH. But then he dropped it: "We have more kids in our class than letters!"

Well, I'm pretty sure that is a miscalculation of some kind. But still. How many kids are really in that class?

Field Trip

We had our first field trip on Friday. When I was a kid, it seemed like field trips were these special, amazing things. We always seemed to go someplace that was unusual, places we didn't go with our parents once a month. Apparently that is no longer the case. My kid's class went to a local children's museum, a place we have season passes to and go to year round. In fact, we went again on Saturday. How fun is that?

Either it means that as parents, we're more fun and go to cool places with our kids, or as schools, we've cheapened out and run out of imaginative ideas. I think I'll choose the former-- I'm just a cool parent.

Shouldn't these instructions be easier?

My kindergartener came home with homework last night. Fortunately, the Monday Mail warned us of the impending homework, so we were watching for it, checking the backpack at 5 pm instead of 6 am.

This is not his first homework. Actually, they sent some home last year as "practice," which means you don't really get a grade, but you can do it if you want. Obviously this is a young kid phenomenon. Older kids know that if there's no credit given, no homework will be done.

The homework was working on -op words. There were these little squares at the bottom with different letters to add to the -op. Fine. I've seen similar worksheets already, so I knew what the result should look like, but as a good kindergarten parent, I read the directions. Whoa. The directions said something about upper case letters written on back and cutting them out and moving them around. What?!! That's not what we're supposed to do is it? There aren't any upper case letters! And what's with the cutting? How do they write on the lines if you cut up the back? Good grief.

I decided to give the sheet to my son and see if he knew what to do. I'm not sure if he actually knew, but I let him do it the way he wanted.

Shouldn't these directions be easier to follow? And if we aren't supposed to follow the directions as written, a little note might help. Last week when he was sick, he came home with a pumpkin man with dotted lines around the separate pieces of the guy-- shirt, shoes, pants. No instructions. I told him to color it, cut it out, and stick it to some construction paper. I'm pretty sure that was wrong, because the shoes and hat were all together and didn't look good cut out. But oh well, no instructions to me means "make something up. it doesn't matter." So we did.

Am I dumber than a kindergartener? Why am I having so much trouble figuring these out? I think maybe I'm a little too anal-retentive about getting the assignment perfect. There's probably some C-student, laid back mom somewhere who doesn't even care as long as their kid's name is on it. A happy medium is probably what I should be striving for...

Good technology

Yesterday, since I bagged school technology, I am going to comment on a technology I think is amazing: Artsonia. Artsonia is a site that publishes kids art for parents, grandparents, whomever to review. I can only imagine the monumental task of scanning in all of the creations, but it's really great to see what they are making and be able to share it with people anywhere. It's highly secure, and you have to approve all comments before they are posted. My son loves seeing his artwork online and reading comments.

Of course, you can purchase all sorts of products with your kid's art emblazoned upon it at a small fee, but your school gets a portion of the sales. I have yet to purchase, but am considering buying a few sketchbooks for him for Christmas. He loves seeing his work, so I think that could be a really fun way for him to continue to develop his skills.

Put me down as a fan of Artsonia.

Going green has me seeing red

Our school district is professed to be "going green," and therefore the Thursday packet, an accumulation of news and non-news handouts, is scanned into a pdf file and a link is sent via email to parents. This seems like a fine idea. Though there is so much paper coming home anyway, I hate to think what it was like pre-green.

Unfortunately, the technology doesn't seem to be working in their favor. The pdf files are always scans of the flier itself-- not a electronic file converted to pdf, but the typical black printing on color paper flier that has been scanned in. The files that we download to view from the school website are HUGE. Last week, the PTA Needs Help handout nearly crashed my computer, and it rendered my Adobe useless until after reboot. Seriously. Even scanned documents shouldn't be 10 MB.

This leads me to thinking that surely I'm not the only one having this problem. Does no one else notice this? I've decided it's one of two things: 1) No one reads these documents. 2) None of the technologically savvy parents want to mention the problem because they don't want to be "volunteered" to solve it.

I don't either. So, I guess I'll continue to reboot my computer and silently curse the PDFs that are targeted only to the 6th graders.

Letters to Teacher: Again

Here I go again, pestering the teacher. This time, it's a discipline question. At the root is the same old "What are you doing over there" issue I complain about daily.

My son came home from school both Thursday and Friday of last week with reports of being in trouble-- in the new lingo, this is called "having to sit down." In both instances, my typically very sweet son reported picking on other kids and kind of being rowdy during the popular Center Time. He loves center time, at least I thought he did, so I was surprised.

Naturally, I'm concerned. Not so much about the incidents reported-- and don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that he reported them!-- but about the change in my little guy. I don't think of it as being in his nature to be distracting or disobedient, so I'm surprised at reports of his causing enough problems to be sitting down. Is he bored? Is he in with the wrong crowd? What's up?

So, I wrote the teacher again. I'm sure I'm on her list of people she's thrilled to hear from so regularly. She probably has a rule set up in her inbox with a folder marked "Problem Parents." I'm hoping it's a more generic folder name, and not one specifically made for me.

What would you do? Would you email the teacher to find out more, or just let it lie and wait for the parole officer to come knocking? Advice, please!

Just when you think you've got it...

Got my son all ready for school this morning. Reviewed the new weekly schedule white board to confirm: PE day. Then my son says that yesterday was Art. No it wasn't, it was music, I said. The calendar says so.

"No mom, we skipped a day on apple day. So it's art."

Great. Just when I felt secure in my happy world of white-board organization, I come to find out that the schedule can be *gulp* changed.

How does one ever keep up? On top of missed days for illness, four short or off days this month, and now the risk of ever-changing special days, will I ever be sure again? The 3 day cycle is the one bridge I have to understanding a part of what is going on over there all day. Now it's questionable too. Once a trust is betrayed, as mine has been, it is not easily rebuilt. I guess we'll wing it, like last month when we had no lunch calendar. So much communication sent home, so little information absorbed.

Reading no-no

I'm just dying for my son to start reading. Since this is the primary emphasis of Kindergarten these days, reading with your child at night is highly-encouraged. No problem, I think. We read all the time. Except when I'm at a meeting. Or we're late getting home. Okay. We're good at it-- you'll have to trust me.

My son has a long attention span, so we've been reading some "chapter" books. By we, I mean me. He does follow along and read the "popcorn" words, when I remember to let him. Sometimes he even reminds me, as in "Mom, 'it' is a popcorn word. I can do that. And I. I can do that too."

When he was home sick, we were reading a Magic Tree House book. We've just started those, thanks to some advice from a friend/kindergarten teacher we know. He really seems to like them, but they do have very few pictures, which took some getting used to. We were getting towards the climax of the book, and I was reading quite fast, which I am prone to do, and suddenly:

"MOM! You stopped reading! You're reading to yourself and not to me!!"

Oops. I wanted to say something like, "Well, if you'd read yourself, you wouldn't have this problem," but that doesn't seem very nice. So I apologized and went back to where I left off (about half a page) and started again. I think it really hurt his feelings that I would read without him, but I honestly didn't realize I had stopped reading aloud.

We just got the October book list, so I guess we'll get lots of practice.

Home with a Semi-Healthy Kid

The schools have a new policy this year: kids must be 24 hours fever free without use of any medicine before going back to school. How do they enforce this, you ask? Good question. All I know is that when you call your kid in sick, they immediately ask his symptoms. Maybe there is a fever alert placed on your kid or something, I don't know.

My son had a low-grade fever yesterday, but really had none yesterday afternoon. By last night, he was dancing with the stars. He woke up with no fever and really wanted to go to school. I just about let him, but in my gut I'm feeling guilt over the 24 hour policy. What if they ask how long he's been without a fever? If it's only been 22 hours, does that count? Will they send him home right after I've driven to work?

It seems to me that policies such as this have the best possible intentions, but end up punishing the obedient parents on every side. First, my basically healthy child will be home all day instead of learning at school, even though he doesn't have a fever and is tired. What kid isn't tired? Second, someone's kid came to school sick, which is how my kid got sick in the first place. They didn't follow the rules, and now we're stuck home two days instead of one to try to keep those kids from getting sick again. And bringing it to school. So my kid can get sick again and stay home some more.

I decided last night that instead of continuing to agonize and be frustrated over these hopeful but questionably helpful policies, I would just enjoy the extra time at home with my big guy. I don't get a lot of one-on-one with him anyway, so we'll watch movies, snuggle and do whatever it is semi-sick kids do on their day off.

Home sick

My son started running a low-grade fever last night. So in this day of h1n1 and general flu panic, we're home today. Of course, he has no other visible symptoms, and seems generally fine, but here we are anyway.

Notifying the school of illness seems to be an easy process-- call to the office, email to the teacher. Naturally, the all-important pta not-so-fun-draiser is due today, so we'll be running that by the office after dropping the healthy child at preschool.

The real question is what do you do with a semi-sick kid all day? Do you punish his illness by forcing him to lay around, even though he doesn't feel too bad? Do you pretend he's just fine and drag him to CVS for the bargain of the week? Do you home school for a day, so that he doesn't miss a full day of kindergarten? Geesh.

Whatever we do, it's me plus-one for the day.

Welcome to my world

Tonight, yet another fundraiser for the elementary school. Version: the local restaurant chain turned elementary cafeteria for the night. I have to hand it to the school staff-- they are required to be at night events all the time, it seems. I'm betting there isn't a bonus for Culver's duty either.

As if we needed a little more crazy, I brought along two good friends, one of whom is leaving to study overseas for 3 years on Saturday. Goodbyes are so sweet when set to the music of 50 screaming kids, making faces at each other and giggling.

So, during fundraising dinner, my youngest starts screaming about her immediate need for fruit punch. I told her to finish milk first, then fruit punch. Guess what? She didn't like that. Five minutes later, neither did anyone else around us as she continued to cry for what she wanted. Welcome to my strong-willed child.

And yes, I saw you, lady in the black shirt, looking so smugly at me and my raving child. I know, if YOU were the parent, that would never have happened.

As I see it, I had two choices: give in, which means no screaming and no fuss, but also means that she gets control, and she knows it. Or stand my ground, which means personal embarrassment and the judgment of others, from our school, who are looking for a reason to judge me.

What would you do? Well, I didn't give in. So what? Go on and judge, lady in the black shirt, but you'd better be praying your angel's adolescent years are as glorious as the 30 minutes you spent eating ice cream, or else you'll be sitting in the judgment seat too.

Hell hath no fury like a mama scorned...

Or something like that.

Tonight at soccer, Kate and I were standing there "watching" practice. This is a lot more like babysitting than watching, but so be it. I look up at some crazy drill they are doing about lanes and such and Sam no sooner gets passed the ball than this small boy uses both hands in the chest to push him over and take the ball. At practice.

I nearly came out of my skin. My mom protective gene took over, and I could feel my blood pressure rise. Fortunately, as the evolved, mature woman I am, I didn't act, but I noted it for future reference. The other thing of note: this kid's birthday is coming up and now I have to go buy him a birthday present. You can be it will be off the clearance shelf.

What is it about our mom instinct that kicks in during those moments? I talked with a friend today who said her biggest fear about Kindergarten was the other kids. I've already heard of a school bus bully and kids saying mean things, and I think I just worry that my sensitive, loving son is going to get crushed. I know I'm not alone.

But there was this other feeling at the moment of Sam's attack (ha). My competitive side creeped in and a small sense of envy arose, wishing my son were the aggressive sporty type. Honestly, with Sam's size, he could be great at just about any sport, but so far aggressive competition does not seem to be his strength. As scrawny as that other boy is, he'd better be aggressive.

So, don't walk down a quiet alley alone tonight, lest you face a mama with her back up.

I'm in!

I got accepted to school! Well, to grade school volunteering, that is. I don't know if I'm on the team with the cool moms or the loser moms, but I've been chosen! I'll be a library volunteer 1 of every 4 wednesday mornings. Better yet: Sam goes to the library on Wednesday mornings, so I'll get a chance to peek at him. What a deal!

I get my official volunteer training tonight and then I'm all set.

Of course, I couldn't do this the normal parent way. I realized after we received the "schedule," which is really a 4 week rotation, that my week falls on the second Wednesday of the month. The second Wednesday! For those who don't know, 2nd Wednesday is also known as "drive grandma to bridge" day. So, I had to make a big stink and email the librarian, oops media specialist, about whether I should arrange a permanent switch or whether she could switch me, and on and on. Oh yes, she's thrilled to have me I'm sure. I got a "why don't we wait and see." response, which is probably short for "I have no idea if I even want you to volunteer now. You're a basketcase." I'm sure she'll show my emails to her media specialist friends and 5-year volunteers tomorrow and they'll give me the evil eye every fourth wednesday when I come in to "help." I'll be known as "no-help matthews" or something.

Oh well, I'm in anyway. For now.

Oops

Got a note from the teacher today: "Dear Mrs. Matthews". That really confirms the old, doesn't it.

Unfortunately, the note was to point out my failure to pay for the upcoming field trip. Honestly, I appreciate the reminder, but it's hard to remember the Letter Expert homework, the apple, the picture money AND the $4. It didn't make the uber-organized white board.

I'm beginning to think that Kindergarten is as much about training the parents as teaching the kids.

And so it begins

In my daily interrogation of Sam to try to uncover some sort of knowledge of the missing hours while he's at school, he mentioned having an assembly. (I think it came out as: assbembly). That's when I learned: it's fall fundraiser time.

I'm in support of fundraisers. Really I am. I participate in all kinds. But the idea of our kids being sent home with frozen food catalogs and being told that they can win some amazing prize is just ridiculous.

Case in point: I asked sam in the car what they were selling. He replied, "I don't think we're selling anything mom. You earn these great prizes."

"yes, I know dear. But what are you selling to earn the prizes?"

"Toys. I think toys."

Um, no. Frozen food. But they were so obsessed by the bright shiny toys that he didn't even hear how to win it. So I launch into a discussion of how you don't really "win" anything, that you sell and buy a million times more items than it would cost you to actually buy the prize. He didn't get it.

I hate to be that mom that doesn't sell anything and doesn't understand the awesomeness of the prize, but I really hate it. My mom was that mom, and now I know why.

I did look at the prize catalog, thinking we could at least shoot for the first prize: it's an eraser. Really, is anyone incentivized by a large eraser that says "I'm for big mistakes"? Good grief.

And so it begins...

The folder

In an effort to better communicate with O.P. (old parents), the kindergarteners come home with a folder cleverly marked with two sides: "home" and "return". We realized the potentail downfalls with this method the first week, when Sam immediately removed everything from his folder to show to me.

"What?!!", I shrieked, ever the concerned parent, "How will I know what needs to go back?!!""

So we talked about a new process: leaving things IN the folder so that I know what to do with it.

Result: Now Sam shows me nothing from his folder. I'm on my own.

20 Questions

Being a new mom on the elementary scene is tough. Apparently, no one else at the elementary school is a new parent, because all sorts of short hand and code words are used to convey relatively simple concepts that I don't understand at all. Since school started, I have tried to limit my teacher emails to one a week, but then they end up like the one I sent yesterday that included not one, but 5 questions. Continuing the typical pattern of dialogue that has been established with said kindergarten teacher, all but one are answered.

Five seems excessive for one email, but I'm sure I could come up with more. In fact, let's try:

1) What's a smart board? (answer: some sort of nifty computer/projection thing. only available to the best type of classrooms, I'm told)
2) Why does PTA feel like junior high school?
3) Do they need 5 choices of entree every day? Will they expect that at home? (Oops, that's two)
4) When did I get old?
5) Why do I recognize so many of these old people (aka parents) from high school?
6) Is it too late to move out of state so I won't recognize any of these people from high school?
7) Will the PTA meetings always be conducted in 5 minutes? I could really go for that.
8) What do they do there all day anyway?
9) Are they learning anything between all the art, recess and center selection time?
10) What do you do will all of this stuff they send home?
11) And, if they send the same thing home twice, am I to submit it twice?
12) If this is environmentally-friendly distribution, I'd hate to see what it was like before the internet. (not really a question, but I'm telling you...)
13) Do any of the kids eat the healthy sides that come with the lunch?
14) What do they do there all day anyway?
15) Now that I'm a parent, am I supposed to like the principal? Is she really the PAL they always said she was in spelling class?
16) Who bought all that playground equipment, and since when did we add grass and soccer fields to the playground?
17) Do you think that when the teachers say that movie-time isn't really a movie, they're just trying to make us feel better?
18) Is my kid doing well? Why do I have to wait 2 months to find out?
19) How do you tell the "cool" volunteer opportunities from the "over-eager stay-at-home mom" opportunities?
20) What do they do there all day????!!!!

Have you felt the same things? Do you have advice for us elementary newbies? Let me know in the comments section!