What a Difference a Year Makes

First day of 5th Grade / First day of 6th Grade

A Few Random Things

As some of you know, I am taking this Mondo Beyondo course online and it is taking up a huge amount of headspace. I mean, it is fantastic and thrilling and the community is filled to the brim with creative and kind women but good lord, there are a lot of them. Trying to keep up with discussion threads while commenting and engaging with them has just been overwhelming. I have dialed back my participation a bit, hopefully it will give me a chance to clear my head.

Max is loving third grade. His new teacher, Mrs. A is enthusiastic and warm and she seems to really see Max and get him.

It rained a little last night. Frank and I stood on the porch and watched.

After running with so much enthusiasm, I fell out of practice over the last few weeks of the summer. So it was with fear and trepidation that I ran yesterday for the first time in three weeks. It was not as bad as I thought it would be. The running came right back to me but today I am sore and walking very slowly.

And on a completely unrelated note, I am thinking about buying a scooter.

First Day of Third Grade

What Would You Have Done?

Yesterday was The Kid's first meeting of The Math Club and he was so excited. As you all know, the little guy loves his math. This is also his very first after school activity. I could barely wait to hear how it had gone and was it fun and who else from his class was there and was the teacher nice – all those questions percolated in my head all afternoon.

The Kid had a great time. It was fun. There were friends from his class there. The teacher was nice. They played some games and even ran a few minutes over the allotted time, which is always a good indicator of a fun time.

After we had been home a little while, The Kid called me over to where he was working on a project on the computer and said this to me: Mom, Isabella said that Obama kills babies while they're still in their mommy's tummies. Is that true?

Okay. I'll give you a minute to compose yourself before I go on…

The whole story went something like this. Isabella's mother was there to "help" with the math club activities. Once the kids were all sitting down she said, "Now, I have a chance to ask you all who you're voting for president." The Kid said (with a good deal of astonishment) that everyone said they were voting for McCain. (Now I assume, what this woman was really asking was who are your parents going to vote for, for surely she knows that seven year olds do not yet have the vote.) When The Kid said "Obama," little Isabella made the baby killer comment.

What, pray tell, would you have done?

First Day of Second Grade

The First Grade Play

The Kid's first grade play was last night and it was wonderful. You may remember at the Christmas program, I was surprised that he was so serious and didn't seem to have much fun being on stage.

Well, my friends, those days are gone. Last night, he took the stage with a huge full arm (think Castro on parade in Cuba) wave to the crowd. He sang with all kinds of enthusiasm. He even danced with a girl (gasp)! As his class exited the stage, he took off the leg of his costume (he was a cricket, all the children were dressed as different bugs) and waved to the audience again. Big waves, big smile. It was, in a word, awesome.

I'm putting this extremely short clip here just to thrill you with the sound of six and seven year olds singing. Beware, the lighting's awful. In fact, you should probably just close your eyes and listen.

The First Grade Sings from Laura on Vimeo.

Is there any better sound in the world?

Tales from the First Grade Hall

Yesterday we had the second parent/teacher conference with Mrs. P., The Kid's teacher extraordinaire. She was running a little behind so we spent a few minutes standing around in the hallway outside the classroom.

We talked to N. one of The Kid's classmate's mom who's baby is due in two weeks. In the past couple of years I've known just a handful of people who got pregnant and my response to the pregnancies of these acquaintances has evolved a good deal. When A. told me she was expecting, I murmured congratulations and ran out to the car, where I sobbed all the way home. The knowledge that it would never be me again just made me so sad. When we noticed N. was pregnant, I paused long enough to poke around at the old feelings and really, nothing was there. In the three years between these pregnancies, I have gotten very comfortable with the size of our little family. I am truly happy being one of three.

We also ran into C. and her husband D. Their daughter is in the class across the hall from The Kid's. C. is in the English Department at Trinity University, where Lefty teaches in the Biology Department. They exchanged a bit of university gossip and I mentioned that I knew Jenny Browne who's also in the English Department and C. said, "Oh, are you a poet too?" and I stammered and actually almost answered no, but then said, "yes, yes", sort of hastily as if I wasn't really sure. What's up with that response? I've identified myself as a poet for years and only recently started using the term "writer" when I began to write so much prose, this blog included. It was odd and I felt like I somehow botched my answer and replayed the mistake over in my head way too many times last night while I was trying to go to sleep. Does anyone else do that? Let an unimportant little verbal misstep in a trivial conversation keep them up at night?

But back to the parent/teacher conference. The Kid is doing wonderfully in school. He has worked on improving some behavior things (like talking while the teacher is talking or not listening to directions) and Mrs. P. says she can really see an improvement. His reading and math are both off the charts. (Yet his scored on the standardized "gifted and talented" tests were nowhere close to what he needed to get into the program. What the…? ) Mrs. P says he's empathetic and kind and a hard worker – words that do a mother's heart good.

Now if I could just get him to eat a decent lunch!

Market Day

Yet another day spent helping out at The Kid's school. Today was Market Day, the culmination of the state-mandated lessons on economics. The first graders learned the difference between goods and services, worker and consumer, supply and demand. He had homework with specific examples – his dad definitely provides a service with his teaching, and he decided that I, as a writer, provide both goods and service.

Today the kids got to sell the goods they created in class to other first graders and buy goods from the other classes. They shopped in shifts and everyone took a turn being the workers, actually collecting the money and selling the goods (wooden stick picture frames). Each student was given $20 in play money to spend. They had to make their own spending choices and there was much frustration when they ran out of money, but still had things they wanted to buy. (Join the club, kiddos.)

As you might imagine, it was chaos on a grand scale. I helped out and did the things Mrs. P asked me to. The two other mothers who were there to help stood at the back of the classroom and talked. To each other. Did not even pretend to be helping. I just don't get it. Why bother showing up at all?!

So I put in my hour and a half of chaos (which is really all I can stand – I have a low tolerance level) and came home and nearly fell asleep on the couch. Between the crazy first grade economics lesson and scurrying around putting all the knitting I've done since summer into boxes to send as presents, I am officially out of steam.

I had hoped by the time I got down here some other theme or thought would have worked it's way in here, so that this would sound a little less whiney, but no luck.

Tomorrow – another trip to the post office!

Two Small Things

1. Years ago, I waitressed in a restaurant and had a little thing with the kitchen manager. This was strictly forbidden so there was much furtive groping and secrecy involved. We had a lot of fun but the most important thing I brought away from the relationship was John Robinson's cold cure. It works best when you first start to feel sick, but I tried it last night and even though my cold was full blown, I slept pretty well and feel much better today.

Brew a strong cup of orange pekoe tea (decaf is okay). Add lemon juice (at least two tablespoons) and honey and a shot of any brown liquor. Run a hot (as hot as you can stand it) bath and soak in the tub while sipping the tea. As soon as you get out of the bath, get in the bed, under heavy covers and stay there for at least four hours. You will sweat. If you're peri-menopausal, you will sweat a lot, but you'll feel better.

2. I took the cupcakes (did I mention from scratch, with only a balky little hand mixer) to celebrate The Kid's birthday with his class today. His actual birthday is not until the 27^th but we wanted to celebrate with his school friends. After the class sang Happy Birthday (the cha cha cha version), my child stood in front of the classroom and said this, "My mom got this recipe from a place that is famous for its cupcakes, so be prepared – this may be the best cupcake you ever had."

My child.

If you are planning on sitting through any elementary school holiday programs this season, you might want to go read this. Yes, it is a knitting blog but this post is pure mama.

The Book Fair

We have the Scholastic Book Fair at The Kid's school this week. Each class is invited, during their regular library time, to look for and purchase books. This is my regular volunteer gig, to help with library time, so I was there to help The Kid pick out books and to pay for them. I set a limit on how much he could spend and just turned him loose. This has resulted in some awesome book choices and also some disasters, but I like giving him the freedom to choose on his own.

Most of the other kids had envelopes with cash and I helped them figure out how much they had and what books they could afford. Try explaining $4.99 to a six year old, I dare you.

There were a few kids who had no money and it hurt my heart to see how sad, how excluded they felt. Now, I understand that some people don't have extra money to throw at book sales, especially before Christmas. I really don't have the extra money this month either, but books are just one thing I try to always say yes to. I wish the school would have an alternative for the kids who hadn't brought money so they didn't have to witness the squealing spending frenzy of the rest of their classmates. I wanted to buy a book for every left out kid, but I couldn't.

Mrs. P

Oh my god. I almost forgot to post today. I have a few minutes before spiriting The Kid off to karate class and was just sitting in front of the computer all, la-dee-da, cheking my email when it hit me. NaBloPoMo – no post yet.

I volunteer in The Kid’s classroom on Wednesday afternoons. An hour of math and then I get to accompany them to the library. Sometimes I help them find a book. Most of the time they find just what they’re looking for all own their own.

This gives me a wonderful opportunity to see The Kid in his natural habitat, interacting with other kids. Now, I don’t for one minute think that he doesn’t act differently because I’m there, but if you’re a parent of an only child, these opportunities don’t come along every day. I love watching him with his friends. Even when he is not paying attention and poking his neighbor, and then gets in trouble – I think its cute.

His teacher, Mrs. P is amazing. How she deals with the chaos of the classroom is just incredible. I am in there for an hour and a half and often leave with the urge to go home and drink gin straight out of the cat dish. I mean, first graders are crazy. They’re emotional and bossy and complicated. The first few times I worked I apologized because I didn’t finish the task she set for me and she just smiled and said, “It’s first grade. Nothing ever gets finished.” Mrs. P is cheerful and calming and friendly and very clearly a leader all at the same time. I think everyone who has a child in a public school classroom should spend an hour just watching what the woefully underappreciated and under paid (even in the good school district) teacher does all day every day.

She has my utmost gratitude for teaching my child with such kindness and enthusiasm and patience. Everytime I leave the classroom I think I should come straight home and send her flowers. I would do it today, if I only had time.

First Week / First Grade

To celebrate the first week of first grade we got chinese takeout. Here, The Kid demonstrates his awesome single chopstick technique.

Happy Labor Day!

Meet the Teacher

We met The Kid’s teacher. He will be entrusted to Mrs. P for first grade! Looking back on what I wrote earlier in the summer Mrs. P is everything I wished for. She’s so enthusiastic and genuinely excited about the new school year.

The whole event was fun, but a little chaotic. We left before we found the school t-shirts because the sheer noisy mass of people in the halls was overwhelming The Kid (and me too).

We are very lucky. This is a great elementary school in “the good school district”. We moved into our current neighborhood specifically for the school district and we took some hits as far as the size of the house and yard, no garage, etc. A large portion of the district is affluent. We, on the other hand, live on the skeezy outskirts, in a very mellow, working-class neighborhood. So, Lefty & I stand out a bit amongst the well-pressed and dressed group of parents. Our battered Trooper sits uncomfortably next to the huge and oh, so shiny SUV’s in the school parking lot.

And being an outsider is okay with me. I kind of enjoy being the odd Poet Mom, plus we fit in nicely with some of the other misfit parents, the Hispanic couple who rode the bus, the sleepy punk rock parents, the vegetarians checking out the cafeteria…

Despite the Barbie & Ken-ness of some of the parents, we know that Max will get what he needs here and that makes us happy.

PS- Boots, Did you make it to Penney’s?

School Supplies

We have been shopping for school supplies the last few days, The Kid and I. We had the choice of buying a pre-assembled package from the PTO in May, but no – I thought it would be fun to shop for his school supplies together.

I love, I mean, really love school supplies. I love school supplies the way other women love shoes. I can spend hours wandering the aisles of Office Depot in a kind of ink-induced frenzy. I have been known to burst into tears when I come across a really really good pen. So, I just assumed that my sweet, sensitive, so-like-me child would love them too and The Kid could care less.

But for the most part, I have had a lot of fun gathering all the things on his school supply list. It was great - until yesterday when I hit a wall. I simply could not find the very specific, special kind of marble composition book my industrious little first grader would need.

Now, I am no stranger to composition books. I have been journaling in them for years. I have quite a collection, beginning with the college ruled numbers from my grad school days, to the current issues which are wide ruled to compensate for my rapidly aging eyesight. I draw the line at color covers, though, I’m strictly a B & W girl.

(Quick aside on eyesight: Last night there were these bugs on the counter & when Lefty came home I said, There are some odd little bugs here, what are they? And Lefty said, ants. So I put on my glasses and sure enough, ants! But without my glasses I truly had no idea.)

I called around under the naive illusion that I could ask a person who works at someplace if they had something in stock and they could somehow check and let me know. But after dealing with a handful of surly people who didn’t want to be bothered, my friend Kim at Office Depot said, yes, they had the marble composition book with story paper and red baseline and she kindly offered to put 2 behind the customer service desk for me and I breezed in this morning and picked them up, grabbing a couple of extras in case any of The Kid’s classmate’s parents had run into the same trouble.

I had fun and The Kid wasn’t too embarrassed by my swooning in the folder aisle. Next stop – MEET THE TEACHER, tomorrow at three!

Fingers Crossed

There’s been a lot going on around here lately. (And this is such a cliché, who among you does not have a whole lot going on?) But with the start of a new school year a little more than a week away, I’ll just take a moment to update where we all are as of late August. (And don’t even mention the school supplies – 12 glue sticks!! – that I’ve yet to buy.)

The Kid is doing better. He has good days and bad, most are good. Bedtime is still fraught with fear and worry about bad dreams. This is, of course, because of the bad thing that happened. He find’s it hard to get disturbing images out of his head. His play therapist, who is our new best friend forever, says to give him lots of love and lots of time. I’m hoping the new school year will be a happy distraction for him.

Lefty is just days away from the start of a new semester. He’s trying to squeeze in some last minute recording before classes start and he’s awash in lectures and labs. He also has a new bass.

I’m trying to get ready to transition out of my current job to part-time freelancing. The powers that be seem to be dragging their heels at finding my replacement. It’s hard to be ready to move on, but still treading water in the same old place.

And then there’s Hurricane Dean breathing down our necks. Having learned my lesson three years ago when I was thoroughly price-gouged for bottled water, I’ve stocked up today. I also dug the good lantern out of the bottom of the closet so I’ll know where it is if we need it. My theory about storms is that if you are thoroughly prepared for them, they will not affect you at all. My fingers are crossed.

So, that’s a rather disjointed account of how we are, late August. All three of us on the verge of something new. Looking forward.

Bad News, Good News

Something bad has happened at The Kid’s summer program and he will not be going back there. Ever. Again. I cannot and don’t want to really go into any details now with an investigation underway etc. The good news is The Kid is okay.

I will say more later, I’m sure. But for today, I am thankful that my child’s alright, grateful for my family and friends and the ever-steady presence of Lefty. Grateful that we are all okay. Everyone: Grab your kids and hug them. NOW!

The First Grade Teacher

I’ve been thinking today about The Kid’s first grade teacher, wondering what she will be like. We liked his kindergarten teacher, though she was a little fundamentalist for my taste. She also made sarcastic asides to me and other parents several times - implying, I think, that she was not having very much fun, and as the mother of the kid who is the most fun in the world, I found this hard to understand. I also wondered about the appropriateness of making sarcastic comments to a parent in front of the kids. But The Kid loved her and now kindergarten is just part of our misty past and we are looking forward to the new teacher. The First Grade Teacher.

I’m hoping for someone who is enthusiastic and energetic. I want someone who cares about some of things I do. Someone who will encourage his love of reading and books and his magnificent certainty that he can do anything he puts his mind to. Someone who will teach him new things, and new words. His language is already full of odd musical, literary and microbiological references (thanks to his parent’s rather disparate interests). A previous pediatrician was actually “alarmed” by The Kid’s rather eclectic vocabulary.

I hope his first grade teacher is someone who will have fun with the class and not make sarcastic asides to the volunteer parents. Most of all, I think everyone wants a teacher who will see their child for the rather nifty kid they are. That’s really all I want.