Short week it was. The verdict: School is GREAT mom!
Upon pickup his teacher informed me how transformed he was by his haircut. So transformed she thought he was a misguided full day student, and sent him on down the hall. He was returned. Doh! Note to self, schedule haircuts for before school starts.
Walking home he was full of chatter.
"What did you do today?"
"We had art! "
"What did you do in art?"
"We read a story." Okaaay. A few minutes later...
"Mom, a bug!"
"It's okay. It's just a cicada."
"Wow! That's a big bug. They're loud."
"Mmm,hm. See that hole in the ground. That's probably where he came out."
Then the inevitable...
"Mom, can we go to Quick Trip?"
At Quick Trip, "Look mom! A bird! A hummingbird!"
"Uh, no Si. That's a dragonfly. But the way it uses it's wings to hover is kind of like a hummingbird."
So now we're home. He's eating hot dogs, running back and forth between the living room and his room singing random songs. I'm glad he's back.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Monday, August 13, 2012
One day down!
Two posts in one day...a bit much. Yet the after is short and sweet.
A few highlights about their first day.
1) Ms. D can make friends with a rock. Nobody wanted to talk to her today, except H,J,A,K,.....
2) Both boys the Ethanator knows are in the other class, but he's okay with that. He's a bit disgruntled to have homework on the very first day. (Welcome to life, kid.)
3) Princess P isn't sure what to think about school yet, but she certainly enjoyed the walk home! Oh, and her teacher is the only friend whose name she can remember in her class.
4) And the sixth grader? I could barely get him to name his classmates, much less tell me how his day was.
And what did mom do? Well, the kindie and the 8th grader are still home today. So we went for a teen haircut and ate lunch at Taco Bell. Tomorrow there will be only one. And after that, quiet mornings to come.
A few highlights about their first day.
1) Ms. D can make friends with a rock. Nobody wanted to talk to her today, except H,J,A,K,.....
2) Both boys the Ethanator knows are in the other class, but he's okay with that. He's a bit disgruntled to have homework on the very first day. (Welcome to life, kid.)
3) Princess P isn't sure what to think about school yet, but she certainly enjoyed the walk home! Oh, and her teacher is the only friend whose name she can remember in her class.
4) And the sixth grader? I could barely get him to name his classmates, much less tell me how his day was.
And what did mom do? Well, the kindie and the 8th grader are still home today. So we went for a teen haircut and ate lunch at Taco Bell. Tomorrow there will be only one. And after that, quiet mornings to come.
Welcome to the 2012-2013 school year.
Today is the first day for four of our kids, and the kindie meet and greet conferences. Around 6:45 when I was trying to get the baked oatmeal for breakfast in the oven, the first kid bounds in!
"What's for breakfast?"
"I'm making baked oatmeal. It should be ready around 7:30."
"Can I have cereal now?"
"You can wait."
"Can I make my lunch?"
"We need to clean out the lunch boxes first. They've been stored a while."
"Can I do that?"
"Sure, whatever." (Translates, just let me get the oatmeal in the oven, pleeeaaaase!)
Repeat this conversation at 6:50 and 6:55...and back to the first kid at seven....except wait, one of these little badgers doesn't start school until Wednesday! He doesn't need a lunch!
"Mom, can I have yogurt in my lunch?"
"Mom, will you cut up the watermelon?"
"Mom, where's the hairbrush?"
Uh, you guys know Dad is still here too, right?
Hey, where's Ms. D and E1. Somebody better go wake them up!
"Mom, I can't find any socks! Never mind. They're in my drawer."
"Change your shirt. What's the rule for the first day of school?"
"It has to have a collar. Really?"
"Really. You can wear your angry birds t tomorrow. (or sonic, or hello kitty....)"
"Lose the athletic shorts too. Khakis or denim today. Okay?"
"Okay! We're ready!"
"Guys. It's only 7:30. They won't even let you in until 8. Sit down and eat your baked oatmeal."
"It has whipped cream on it! Wow, thanks mom."
"Hey, it's the first day of school. We have two more first days of school this week, so that means two more hot breakfasts. Aren't we all lucky here?"
"Can we have pancakes twice?"
(Ha!) "No. I believe canned cinnamon rolls are on the menu for tomorrow. Maybe eggs."
"How about waffles?" (Okay kid. Ya deaf. What time do you think I'm getting up?)
Because of the heavy, supply-laden packs I generously offer to drive them today. Pulling out of the driveway I scraped the bumper on the side porch. This is not hard to do. At least I didn't back into the rock wall again. So you can just imagine the van ride conversation. I already was feeling kinda off, w/ Dad dropping off the sixth grader and all. (Mr. nonverbal still hasn't given me a drop-off report, or picture. He probably didn't take one...even though it's sixth grade, and our last kid in that school. Men.)
I park on the street perpendicular to the school. We all unload.
"Hey, I told you guys to wait. Mr. 4th grader, you need to keep your first grade sister with you. I will be walking to school with you until you do!" (Eye roll, smirk, then semi-glare. He does slow down and take her hand though. I call that a win.)
We get to the door.
"I love you guys. Have a great day! Not you littlest man, you stay with me! Your first day isn't until Wednesday."
Then Si guy and I head to Kindergarten. His teacher is Ms. J. I walk in the room. There are frogs everywhere, just like in Mrs. S room at our old school. He unloads his supplies, and has a frog to color while she has her meeting....except he's done coloring before it starts. She has books there for him to look at, but reading silently isn't his strong point. So now all the parents know Si already can recognize his letters and a few words. I turn over his frog so he can draw, but he spills his crayons. Yet he gets down and picks them up without being asked. Thankfully, at about this point, she ends her speech, reiterating the importance of coming to back-to-school-night to sign up for stuff.
He is impressed by the faucet thingies that turn the classroom sinks into drinking fountains, the snap-together popsicle letters, and the "Mom! She has legos!" moment was my favorite. He has to touch everything.
"Mom what's this? It looks like a hand!"
"It's a pointer." He uses it to point to the numbers on the calendar.
"13! Mom, there's 13!"
"Uh-huh. That's the date today. August 13th. Look she has the numbers up to the first day of school. What number is that?
"55!"
"Uh, no honey. It's 15. Two days from now is the fifteenth. That's your first day."
"Yay!"
"It's time to go now. She's going to have another group soon."
I predict I'm going to have to say that exact sentence again in May.
"What's for breakfast?"
"I'm making baked oatmeal. It should be ready around 7:30."
"Can I have cereal now?"
"You can wait."
"Can I make my lunch?"
"We need to clean out the lunch boxes first. They've been stored a while."
"Can I do that?"
"Sure, whatever." (Translates, just let me get the oatmeal in the oven, pleeeaaaase!)
Repeat this conversation at 6:50 and 6:55...and back to the first kid at seven....except wait, one of these little badgers doesn't start school until Wednesday! He doesn't need a lunch!
"Mom, can I have yogurt in my lunch?"
"Mom, will you cut up the watermelon?"
"Mom, where's the hairbrush?"
Uh, you guys know Dad is still here too, right?
Hey, where's Ms. D and E1. Somebody better go wake them up!
"Mom, I can't find any socks! Never mind. They're in my drawer."
"Change your shirt. What's the rule for the first day of school?"
"It has to have a collar. Really?"
"Really. You can wear your angry birds t tomorrow. (or sonic, or hello kitty....)"
"Lose the athletic shorts too. Khakis or denim today. Okay?"
"Okay! We're ready!"
"Guys. It's only 7:30. They won't even let you in until 8. Sit down and eat your baked oatmeal."
"It has whipped cream on it! Wow, thanks mom."
"Hey, it's the first day of school. We have two more first days of school this week, so that means two more hot breakfasts. Aren't we all lucky here?"
"Can we have pancakes twice?"
(Ha!) "No. I believe canned cinnamon rolls are on the menu for tomorrow. Maybe eggs."
"How about waffles?" (Okay kid. Ya deaf. What time do you think I'm getting up?)
Because of the heavy, supply-laden packs I generously offer to drive them today. Pulling out of the driveway I scraped the bumper on the side porch. This is not hard to do. At least I didn't back into the rock wall again. So you can just imagine the van ride conversation. I already was feeling kinda off, w/ Dad dropping off the sixth grader and all. (Mr. nonverbal still hasn't given me a drop-off report, or picture. He probably didn't take one...even though it's sixth grade, and our last kid in that school. Men.)
I park on the street perpendicular to the school. We all unload.
"Hey, I told you guys to wait. Mr. 4th grader, you need to keep your first grade sister with you. I will be walking to school with you until you do!" (Eye roll, smirk, then semi-glare. He does slow down and take her hand though. I call that a win.)
We get to the door.
"I love you guys. Have a great day! Not you littlest man, you stay with me! Your first day isn't until Wednesday."
Then Si guy and I head to Kindergarten. His teacher is Ms. J. I walk in the room. There are frogs everywhere, just like in Mrs. S room at our old school. He unloads his supplies, and has a frog to color while she has her meeting....except he's done coloring before it starts. She has books there for him to look at, but reading silently isn't his strong point. So now all the parents know Si already can recognize his letters and a few words. I turn over his frog so he can draw, but he spills his crayons. Yet he gets down and picks them up without being asked. Thankfully, at about this point, she ends her speech, reiterating the importance of coming to back-to-school-night to sign up for stuff.
He is impressed by the faucet thingies that turn the classroom sinks into drinking fountains, the snap-together popsicle letters, and the "Mom! She has legos!" moment was my favorite. He has to touch everything.
"Mom what's this? It looks like a hand!"
"It's a pointer." He uses it to point to the numbers on the calendar.
"13! Mom, there's 13!"
"Uh-huh. That's the date today. August 13th. Look she has the numbers up to the first day of school. What number is that?
"55!"
"Uh, no honey. It's 15. Two days from now is the fifteenth. That's your first day."
"Yay!"
"It's time to go now. She's going to have another group soon."
I predict I'm going to have to say that exact sentence again in May.
Friday, August 10, 2012
The great thing about hearts
Hearts are like the "lockers" in the Percy Jackson books. It is unbelievable how much we can stuff in there. We are reminded of this every time we have another child. How can we possibly love this tiny person as much as the amazing kids we already have? Yet we always do. Sometimes we even grow to love all of them even more.
Yet last weekend I was devastated by a letter. My kindie would be unable to attend the same fabulous school his siblings had attended since we moved back to KC about six years ago. Last summer, we moved a little bit east, so it was a transfer to attend there. This year there are already sixty in K. There is no room.
So we went through some stages of grief. First denial. A phone call to the district going "what do you mean there's no room?" Well, they meant there's no room. 20 kids per class is a pretty full kindergarten.
Then there was anger and confusion. How many kids should we move? How could we handle two drop offs? This was outrageous, insane! Next of course, was acceptance.
I walked down to the new school and roamed the building. At this point I still wasn't sure how many kids to send with him. Then I saw the library. Yes folks, bibliophilic art freak I am, it was the library that pushed me over the line. I must have spent half an hour in there, just taking it in: the bronze sculptures on top of the shelves, the three shelves per grade level of chat 'n chew books, the mix of "pop" kids books and literature, the state symbols painted on the wall and two story ceiling, the "surprise art" on the shelves with books and "street signs" named after authors. The books pictured clinched it for my third grade daughter.
I will always love our first elementary in a special way. It's just my heart has grown, and I'm starting to love this one too.
Yet last weekend I was devastated by a letter. My kindie would be unable to attend the same fabulous school his siblings had attended since we moved back to KC about six years ago. Last summer, we moved a little bit east, so it was a transfer to attend there. This year there are already sixty in K. There is no room.
So we went through some stages of grief. First denial. A phone call to the district going "what do you mean there's no room?" Well, they meant there's no room. 20 kids per class is a pretty full kindergarten.
Then there was anger and confusion. How many kids should we move? How could we handle two drop offs? This was outrageous, insane! Next of course, was acceptance.
I walked down to the new school and roamed the building. At this point I still wasn't sure how many kids to send with him. Then I saw the library. Yes folks, bibliophilic art freak I am, it was the library that pushed me over the line. I must have spent half an hour in there, just taking it in: the bronze sculptures on top of the shelves, the three shelves per grade level of chat 'n chew books, the mix of "pop" kids books and literature, the state symbols painted on the wall and two story ceiling, the "surprise art" on the shelves with books and "street signs" named after authors. The books pictured clinched it for my third grade daughter.I will always love our first elementary in a special way. It's just my heart has grown, and I'm starting to love this one too.
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