It’s the happiest, and busiest time of the year for me. BOTH of my kids are starting school. I’ve already written about the heavens opening up and the angels singing the praises of my son’s first day of 3rd grade this week. Today, however, was all about the angel, my daughter. I do not feel the least bit guilty for writing this, either! Today was a prime, perfect, exact reason for these feelings.
Tuesday, The Boy was genuinely excited about starting his new grade in his new school. On the way to day 1, we were talking about it all and he said, “Mom, i’m so excited because you can’t get in trouble on the first day! No one gets in trouble on the first day.”
Setting those standards high.
All week he had no homework, save for the single brown bag he brought home with a paper explaining what needed to be put in it. “My summer souvenir”. We debated and talked and commiserated about what he would take. He, of course, wanted to take a toy. Just a Lego toy, nothing that involved anything at all having to do with summer. He wanted to take pictures, but next week he’ll be doing a collage and that is a better time to take in the pictures. So we discuss and finally he comes to a decision. This morning I am laser-focused on getting all he needed in addition to getting my daughter ready for her preschool orientation happening right after I drop off The Boy. My daughter is in the early stages of a cold, and i’m trying not to freak out about this and how she’s going to contaminate the classroom before school even starts, but what’s a mom to do ?!
Anyway, my kid grabs his summer thing, I pop open the brown bag and lo and behold, there is a paper inside. A paper with instructions to write down three, THREE, details about said ‘souvenir’.
WTF ?!?! We have to leave in ten minutes and all of a sudden we are thrown into a panic. And by “we”, i mean “him”. Instead of just jotting down three quick details, he wants to debate with me the semantics of the term “homework”.
Something I did not, by the way, get sucked into.
This spiraled into all out one-sided war and we ended up walking out the door with both kids screaming at each other, running for the van, as I sighed and breathed deep enough to turn my lungs inside out – but I did not yell. In fact, I was so zen I was silent for the first 2 miles of our 5 mile drive to school. This resulted in my son apologizing unprompted.
During the home madness, I had a paper that I needed to fill out for my daughter’s preschool. This involved questions like, “What are your child’s strengths?” “What are some things we might need to know about your child?” – Typical questions. These were answered so short and brief, I felt as thought I wasn’t giving it all I had. I felt like surely there must be something more than just this one single sentence?!
But no. That’s the glory of my second child. She is an angel in comparison to her brother who goes into a tirade over calling something “homework” when it’s just a fun activity. My daughter loved her orientation, and at the part where they had all the kids sit in their circle, she made me so proud! She did not shove the kid next to her. She did not wiggle, spit, hiccup, push, or fart. She just sat and listened, and even participated in the songs. There was a question portion to which the teacher asked the kids to “raise your hand if…” and this being her first preschool experience, didn’t understand to take her hand down after everyone answered. There she sat, patiently, with her arm up to the ceiling. The teacher finally asked if she had a question and she just said, “no” and put her hand down.
At the end of the circle time, she turned to look for me for the third time and just smiled and said, “I love you, mom!” in front of her whole class and all their parents. It was quiet a feeling, and one i’m happy to say i’m ready to get used to.
Thank God for the easy ones.
Sarcasmica 