Adjusting

It's 8:14 am. My house is silent. Except for the dishwasher- which the husband loaded this morning.

The children have begun their second week of school. And my house is silent. It's going to take some getting used to.

On the first day of school last week, after I dropped the children off and returned home, I went into my bathroom to get ready for the day. Once I had dried my hair, I walked to the kitchen to eat some breakfast. As I was finishing and heading back to my bathroom, I expected my little son to trail along behind me with an endless barrage of verbage. And he didn't. And I wondered, "where is that little son of mine? He is being so quiet." And then I remembered.

I don't think I like that my children are all in school. I spent 9 years waiting for the day all of them would be in school, and now that this day has arrived, I realize that I am closing the book on a story that I wish would go on forever. And I hate to see a good story come to an end.

We had a magical summer! It was full of trips, and exploring, and ice cream cones, and lazy days, and crafts, and swimming, and movies, and play, and dress-ups, and books, and rodeos, and mountains, and games, and friends, and naps, and family, and fun!

And now, I'm starting a new book- the one where my children are growing up and I can't stop it. And it looks like this book has lots of chapters- just like the last one. I think this book is going to take a little time to get into, but I'm confident I'll enjoy it.

For now, I'll set the volume I just finished up on the shelf and feel blessed that I had the chance to experience it.

I'm so glad there are sequels.

Paranoia and Vinyl Stickers

Paranoia can be a positive thing. Right? I have to believe that it can.

I recently shuttled my darling girls to school, arriving with time to spare before the bell.

I am in the habit of stopping the car right in front of the kindergarten gate- so I can watch middle daughter enter her classroom.

This particular day, there was no spot for me by the kinder gate, so I pulled up to the curb- several car lengths back.

Middle daughter jumped out of the car after so graciously bestowing her sloppy kisses on my cheek. And her little kindergarten self was away so fast that I barely had time to blink. My instinct was to call her back so that oldest daughter could walk her up to her classroom, but there was no time- she was off.

So I watched her little princess backpacked back as she skipped merrily away. And then I was granted more wet kisses from a little 2nd grade cutie as she jumped out of the car and met a couple of her little girlfriends with hugs and off they skipped to the playground.

When my attention finally turned back to the little kinder girl, she was nowhere in sight. Immediately I started wondering if she had in fact made it to her classroom. And then I started taking mental note of every car in front of me. Believing that it was totally conceivable that anyone of them could have snatched her up and taken her while I was busy bidding adieu to my 2nd grader.

I noted the truck, with the annoying high-heeled devil/angel silhouette vinyl stickers on the rear window. Am I the only one who doesn't like those? I have to believe there are others out there who don't particularly fancy them. And do they have a name?

And I checked where the teachers on duty were standing. My rational side kept assuring me that for sure she had made it into her class. Don't worry.

So I drove home and tried to put it out of my mind- my rational self trying to convince the paranoid self to just let it go. But I couldn't. I kept running the scenarios in my mind.

All I could think of were the stories about people in terrible situations and in retrospect, proclaiming that they should have listened to their gut.

And so I surrendered. And I called the little kindergarten classroom. And asked the teacher if my little girl had indeed made it into class.

And she was there. In her desk. Safe.

And I was relieved. Paranoid, but relieved.

***my sincerest apologies to the husband who never knew that our middle daughter was presumably kidnapped until now. because i could not bear the embarrassment of telling him about my paranoia. also, i didn't want to reconfirm to him that i can be a little silly sometimes. really, i can- hard to believe, i know. and i guess i was a little paranoid that he might be a tad bit upset if i lost our daughter. i would have told him. eventually.

Learning

Yesterday was the first day of school for my girls. I have to admit that I hated to see them go back to school. I like having them near me. Maybe you have heard me say that before.

But, send them back to school I must. And in that case, I decided to make the best of the situation and have a party.

So, I invited the women in my ward over for a little back to school breakfast. Just like my mom used to do. And it took my mind off my absent girls. Except, it made me realize that I haven't made an effort to make new friends in a long time. And then it made me start wondering how I am perceived by others. But, I had to stop that- and not go there. Cause that can get depressing. (Please tell me I'm not the only one who ever has these thoughts.) So I didn't go there and I had a great time.

It was nice to visit with a few ladies. And eat.

When I picked up my newly-kindergartened middle daughter this afternoon, I asked her what she learned today. She told me, "I didn't learn today. That teacher doesn't teach us ANYTHING!"

That cracked me up. What I think is that she has a sneaky teacher- because middle daughter learned a few things, like what a cube is. And how to draw a picture of what she does to get ready for school. And how to sit properly in a classroom.

To sum up: it has been a good first week of school so far. And I have remembered to pick them up both days. (remember this post?)

Happy Wednesday.

Sleeping Beauty, Confined

I am pleased to introduce you to my lovely guest blogger- Oldest Daughter, age 6. She is the lover of all things gentle and unthreatening. She enjoys reading, coloring and creating games and productions. She has graduated from bath-taking with middle daughter and little son and is finding the world of showers thrilling. She is able to tie her shoes, pour her own milk, and put her hair in a ponytail.

And now I give you Oldest Daughter. In her own words (and typed with her own petite hands)...

"Today I had a lockdown it was long the boys sat down at the desk and the girls sat down at the carpit and my techer got a bucket so we can go potty and three boys went potty but I did not see cuses I was asleep we had to cuvver the windos the end"

And she speaks the truth. I got to the school about 10 minutes before the bell rang- which is my custom. The bell never rang. Around 5 minutes after the bell should have sounded I began to wonder what was up. I began to wonder if maybe the school was on lockdown. Because it has happened before, and will happen again.

After talking with other parents, we found out there had been a shooting in the neighborhood and the police were still searching for the suspect. So, the school was indeed on lockdown. Does this give you a beautiful vision of the neighborhood I live in, or what? Come visit. Anytime!

We sat there for one hour and thirty-five minutes (thank goodness little son and middle daughter were the picture of patience while in the car) waiting for our children to be released from school. All with no information from the school or from any other authorities. I tried to call the school office, but they were not answering calls. After speaking with the husband, he called the city police who apprised him of the situation and assured us the children would be released within the half hour- after they were sure the suspect was apprehended and those children who walk home would be safe.

Sure enough, the children were dismissed within the half hour. Oldest daughter jumped in the car and informed us about the lockdown.

According to lockdown protocol, the windows were covered and the children were encouraged to remain calm and quiet, and the potty bucket was made available. Be assured that the potty bucket was placed in an area that was out of sight of all the other children. And eventhough she was sleeping, I want to let you know that oldest daughter's teacher gave them permission to sleep if they were tired. Because, believe me, oldest daughter would never do anything without her teacher's permission. And then after 1 1/2 hours, oldest daughter was awakened and sent home.

I'm just grateful all the children are safe- especially my sweet oldest daughter. Oh, and I'm totally glad that little son and middle daughter didn't have to use the restroom while we waited. I don't have a potty bucket in my car.

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Sidenote: Did any of you watch Chuck last night? I did. And I loved all the Back to the Future material it contained. Especially in light of yesterday's post- and the comments it elicited. DeMorgan. Cracks me up.

Batter Up!

So, as a mother you gotta stick up for your kiddos, right?

We are now in the 4th week of school and today was oldest daughter's first day in a new classroom. Let me fill you in:

The Thursday before school began was meet the teacher night. The husband and I attended with oldest daughter and with middle daughter and little son in tow. We were informed that the teacher she had been assigned (and the one that we had requested because of her awesome reputation as a teacher) was now the official 1st grade ELD teacher- for all the Spanish-speaking students- so oldest daughter was re-assigned to a different teacher.

OK, so we went into this new teacher's class room. It was bare- NOTHING on the walls. Oh, except for an alphabet strip above the dry-erase board. That is all- an alphabet strip. In my head I was like, "Huh?" But outwardly I was presenting an open-minded front. As we met the teacher we learned that she recently graduated from college, somewhere in the mid west. She just arrived in our state 2 weeks prior to the start of school, the ink still wet on her diploma.

Leaving her classroom I was hoping that there would be more to her than what was presented. I was a little let-down and skeptical of what she could pull together in just the few short days before the actual start of school.

First day of school dawns. We take the required photos of oldest daughter with brand new school uniform, back pack and Hannah Montana shoes, load all the children in the car and set off for a top notch first grade education.

As we entered oldest classroom, I saw what new teacher had pulled together for the actual start of school. Um, nothing. Same ol' alphabet strip and that's pretty much it. I was hoping for more, I'm not gonna lie. The husband and I exchanged nervous glances, took a photo of oldest daughter with new teacher, kissed and hugged her (oldest daughter, not new teacher) and left our offspring in the hands of a green teacher with a naked classroom.

Fast forward 3 weeks: oldest daughter comes home each day (the ones where I remember to pick her up) very down on school. She "hates school." This is something new to our home. She loved school last year! She had an awesome teacher that we all love. Last year the only time she would voice any opposition to school attendance was when I first woke her up in the morning. (she didn't know what she was saying, she was still practically asleep) But this year, it is constant. First thing she says when she wakes up. Second and third thing she says when she wakes up, etc., and last thing she says as she gets out of the car when I drop her off. Then, all is repeated at 3:00 when i pick her up.

Last Tuesday was my first day helping in the classroom. I like to go once a week for a couple hours to help out. I sure was not prepared for this class. I can't even tell you everything I witnessed, you would not believe me. Believe me. So, I will highlight the standout issues. Upon entering the classroom, this is what I witness:

• children roaming around the class while the majority is sitting at the back carpet for spelling review
• teacher teaching to 3-4 students while others are under tables and tuned out
• class returns to desk for math lesson
• one little girl painting nails
• one little boy cutting paper
• one little boy lying on floor
• one little girl squirting lying boy in the face with her water bottle
• one little girl eating chips
• 4-5 little girls and boys trying to get chip girl's attention so they can share the bounty
• one little girl falling asleep on desk
• the majority of the little boys and girls disrupted by all that is happening
• one little boy playing with cars on his desk
• one little boy facing completely the opposite direction of the lesson
• chit chat all around the room
• little girls and boys getting up and leaving the classroom to go potty
• no attempt to bring the class to order during math lesson
• no worksheet given to apply concepts taught

The class then adjourned to the carpet at the back of the room for story time. They were to read a short book and answer questions. The book began, the children were rowdy, the children were under tables, the children were talking and bothering their neighbors, etc, etc, etc.

A half hour after the story time began I left to go home. The book was still unfinished. It was a picture book. Should have taken maybe 10 minutes to read. (I was in the class for 2 hours and these three things are all that were accomplished in that time.)

When I picked up oldest daughter from school I asked her how the book ended. She didn't know. They never finished it. I understood her lack of enthusiasm for school.

The next morning I put in a call for the principal. Her voice mail said she would get back to me within 24 hours. 72 hours and 3 calls later, still no word from the principal. Finally I walked into the school requesting to see the principal. After meeting with her and demanding (sounds all "in your face", but not so much) that oldest daughter be given a new teacher, I went home again. I was feeling bad for this new teacher. She needs help, direction, supplies. And I know this teacher will improve as she gets the teacher skills she needs. But I cannot afford to let my daughter be in a situation that is constantly bringing her down while we are waiting for this teacher to come around.

Yesterday I met with the principal to sign papers for a transfer to a new class, met the newly assigned teacher, and explained my reasons for pulling oldest daughter to the little green teacher.

I feel for her. I have arranged with her to go in and help for a 1/2 hour each week.

When the husband and I told oldest daughter that she would be changing classes, she smiled. She is excited. She will thrive in this new teacher's class. I am excited. I am hopeful. I am drained.

It is scary to face people. I don't like confrontation. I want everyone to be happy. I am proud of myself for going to bat for my sweet oldest daughter. I would do it again.

P.S. Sorry this one is so long. Thanks for reading.

Questions

Hey all of you out there.

Do you know what today is? That's right it is Wednesday.

And do you know what happens on Wednesdays? Very good, it is early release- 1:00 EVERY Wednesday.

And do you know where I was at 12:50 today? Yes, you are right again. I was waiting in the school parking lot for oldest daughter.

You know why I was there on time (even early) (although, every time I have NOT forgotten to pick her up I have been there early)? BECAUSE I HAVE HEARD THIS ALL WEEK: "Don't forget me on Wednesday like you did last time!" or "remember when you forgot to pick me up last time?" and "that's the tree I waited under when you didn't come get me" oh, and this "that's the lady that called you when you didn't come get me."

So, we are now home from school. It's Wednesday, and I didn't forget. Go me.

I have a suspicion that oldest daughter will never let me live this one down. And then, I think that when middle daughter starts school next year, oldest daughter may say to her, "Sister, I hope Mom doesn't forget to pick you up."

And to tell you the truth, it is possible that it could happen again.

Lady of Mystery- Revealed

So, the lady in the office yesterday? Only the new Assistant Principal. Found this out when I picked up oldest daughter (on time) today.

Nice to meet you, Ms. Macdonald.

First impressions. Always nice.

Mom Card in Serious Jeopardy

I am operating under a suspended mom card. Please don’t judge me. Let he (or she- we are equal opportunity here) who is without forgetfulness cast the first frying pan.

You know how yesterday was Wednesday? Wednesday. Yeah, Wednesday. The day oldest daughter gets out of school early. 1:00- EVERY Wednesday. And that’s what day it was yesterday.

1:15 the phone rings. Oldest daughter’s school was on the line: “Hey, did you remember that it was early release today, because it is Wednesday? We have oldest daughter here waiting to be picked up.”

Hello?! How could I have forgotten?

I wake up little son from his nap (the one where I had just put him in bed 10 minutes earlier), tear middle daughter away from planting weeds in a flower pot outside, and strap them in the car.

Rushing into the office, some lady (a teacher, I guess?) says, “You know, we have early release EVERY Wednesday at 1:00.”

Thanks, I know that.

The last thing I said to oldest daughter when I dropped her off at school Wednesday morning? “It’s early release today, I’ll be here at 1:00.”

H-Mon in Da Howse

Can I get my mom card back? I took oldest daughter and got those Hannah Montana shoes. (hence my totally white mom, feigning teen-coolness title.)

Before we went, we were discussing the shoes and she actually asked, “Which ones do you want me to get, Mom?” It kind of pricked me a bit. I realized that she really wants to please me.

To be sure we could find the appropriate size and style we went to a different store on the evening of my last post, and funny thing, little son found the exact same four-sizes-too-big shoes that he did at the other store and wore them around till a decision was reached on oldest daughter’s shoes. Which, really, took no time at all, since she went for the same shoes she had her eye on and we found a pair in the right size. She was beaming. All smiles. I was biting my tongue and smiling and reassuring her on her BRILLIANT choice of shoes.

I should be spanked, though. I saw a pair of Tinker Bell shoes with a VERY INCONSPICUOUS little Tink on them. That is the answer! A character shoe with barely any mention of the character. I slyly pointed them out to oldest daughter. She scarcely gave them a glance and continued with the tying of her first love- Hannah.

It was a good thing that the husband went with us, he acted as my moral support and reminded me of the importance of letting her make her own decision. (I think there may have been something in “the Plan” about freedom of choosing for one’s self?)

It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized just how excited she was about her purchase. She got up first thing and put on those shoes- with her pajamas- and wore them all day. And then, of course, yesterday was the first day of school and she proudly donned her shoes, talking about how much her friends are going to love them. Oh, my sweet little oldest daughter.

So, we have Hannah Montana shoes at our house and I have found that I am not suffering because of it. Life can still be wonderful, even when your child wears those ghastly character shoes, and my pride is still intact.

Middle daughter starts preschool the beginning of September. A promise of school shopping has been made. This includes a trip to the shoe store. Heaven help me…