A New Drink Poured

It's here! That day is here that I have been looking toward for... okay, I'm not going to embarrass myself by saying how long, let's just say a long time. Today my baby started first grade, which in our school district is the beginning of full-day school. I'm home alone!

What's that you say? You already knew this because you could hear the whoops & hollers for miles around? No, no, couldn't be. That wasn't me you were hearing at all. So did I sob when I watched my baby walk into the school instead? Well, not exactly.

It's a tumbler-full of emotions kind of day. The Uber-princess, who had been counting down the days and then hours until school started, turned at the last moment and clutched my hand. She pulled me down to her for another kiss before joining the line marching into school. Excitement and hesitation stirred into one for her in that moment. Later, as I wiped the kitchen counter, I sorrowed over how it would be empty come lunchtime. But I also felt nearly lightheaded over the freedom afforded to me by the absence of children for six-and-a-half hours. Exuberance and nostalgia swirled together in another emotional cocktail.

I'm guessing it will continue to be so for our family until we settle into our new routines. LMH started junior high today, with a similar mixture of apprehension and enthusiasm. I think it's a very human response to newness. We revel in the thought of possibilities, the future a brimming pitcher of unsampled potential. Yet we also shrink back toward the familiar, the comfortable. Thankfully, the newness can become comfortable without losing potential. And so we all plunge forward into a new school year, hopeful, excited and yet equally sentimental.

How about you? Are you one for whom Fall and a new school year represents possibility with it's sloshed-together mixture of feelings? Or has it all become a blur, one month pouring into the next, the same drink day after day?

No Time For School

Three day weekend! My kids are off school today and I find myself wondering just when it is that they are at school any more. In the month of February (granted it's a short month), my kids only had one full week of school. Looks like it will be five days of school next week, but then only three the following, followed by another five day week. Then it's a four day week before Spring Break starts and we're off for a bunch of days.

It's really messing with my writing mojo. I can't get back into the rhythm of things with all these days off. My productivity is waaaay down for the month of February. I know, poor me. But here's the thing - if I'm not getting much done with all these days off, what about the kids? Well, they aren't getting as much done either. How do I know? My third grader came home last night bringing homework to do over the long weekend. And it's not the first time. The teacher openly admits that there is not enough time in these shortened weeks to get it all done. So she's had to resort to sending work home in order to keep pace with the district's expectations.

Here's the funny thing: just this morning I was surmising that I'd found the reason for all the homeschoolers getting ahead of our public school kids in their class work. They have the opportunity to spend more time on their schoolwork than my kids do. And my guess was confirmed. Some homeschool friends just arrived, so I asked them, did they do school today? And their answer? Yes, they've been particularly working on the days the public school is off, because they're planning to head south for a couple of weeks and need to get nine days ahead of public school (I should clarify that they're doing a bit of hybrid schooling where some subjects they do at the public school, but most at home). Aha! I was right!

If the excess of days off frustrates me, I can't imagine how working parents must feel. What do they do when the kids aren't in school on work days? Aye yi yi!

Here we are. Another three day weekend. My kids are playing. I'm not getting much done. How about you?

Life Can Be Rough

His eyes were rimmed red and he barely looked up as he spoke. I listened as another hot lunch mom asked the distressed fourth-grader to repeat what lunch he had ordered. The other students at the lunch table chatted and ate, moving clumsily in their bulky winter coats and snowpants. Beside them, the teary-eyed boy looked thin in his striped shirt and jeans. He burst into a fresh flow of tears as the other mom hurried off to find his missing lunch order.

"We'll get your lunch real quick," I said, stooping down to reassure the boy.

"It's not about my lunch!" he retorted. "I'm not crying about that. It's...it's everything!" And then he launched into a litany of missteps and injustices that had seemed to follow him that day, among them that he'd been sentenced to staying inside for recess. This explained his clothes, and more importantly, his tears.

I listened until he was done pouring out his story. "The day is already halfway through. It will get better," I promised.

He began crying again. "But it won't get better! After lunch I have math, and I hate math!"

He sat with his back to the table, his shoulders hunched in defeat. I gave him a small pat on the back and a few more words of reassurance, before moving on to continue helping to serve lunch.

A short while later I went to stand against the wall by the cafeteria door to eat my own lunch while chatting with another mom. I glanced over at the boy. He still sat with his back to the table. He wasn't smiling. But his pizza bagel and tears were gone. A few moments later the lunch monitors began directing the children to clean up. I threw out my napkin and went over to the boy.

"I hope your day does get better," I said to him, giving him another quick pat on the back.

He gave me a glance and a half smile and stood to join the line of children leaving the cafeteria.

Life can be rough, even when you're in fourth grade. I sure hope he goes home to a mom who gives him a big hug and a listening ear.

And when my kids get home, I'll be waiting to do the same.

Taking Matters Into Her Own Hands

Poor Uber-Princess. Seems her social life isn't what she's been hoping for. At school she enjoys hanging out with her friends and will often talk about plans to play later. Her homebody mom tries to accommodate this as best she can and generally arranges at least one playdate each week. But that's too slow for the Uber-Princess. Recently she's begun taking matters into her own hands.

Over Christmas break we called one school friend to invite her to play. There was no answer, so we left a message. We never heard back. I reassured her that the friend was probably away on vacation (she was) and we could set something up after school started again. The Uber-Princess, knowing the slowpoke her mom can be about these things, took care of things straight away on Monday morning. She wrote her phone number on the back of her friend's paper and urged the friend to have her mother call to set up that playdate.

A few days later the phone rang. The number had been passed on. We moms conferred and set up a playdate for next week. The Uber-Princess's actions set things in motion far faster than if she'd waited on the grownups to get their acts together.

She has also recently been talking about one boy in her class with whom she plays a lot in school. They have hit it off well and both agree that this warrants some after school play time as well. Each day she comes home and talks about this little boy and what they could play if he came over (to our mega-girly home). I've been thinking I'd chat with the boy's mom about it the next time I saw her. Which was today. Apparently the Uber-Princess beat me to it. The boy's mom volunteered with their class in the library yesterday and the Uber-Princess took the opportunity to approach the mom about the possibility of a playdate.

*Sigh.* I can barely imagine what the teen years will be like with this one. If she has her way it will probably be a string of endless social activity. The Uber-Princess is one that likes to keep her dance card full. Question is: can her mother keep up?

It's Heeerrrree

H1N1 has arrived in our little city. Who knows when exactly, maybe the county health department. They have been active in keeping the community informed, and the school community in particular, due to the unusual threat the disease poses to younger people. So we know it's "here"-- meaning out there in the far reaches of our city. It's "here" in terms of being the subject of reports in the local newspaper. It's "here", but not where I live. My family is safe from the threat, I think to myself.

Monday a missive arrived by email telling us that the regular updates on the disease's progress would cease. It explained that cases had been reported from every school in our district and at every grade level. I guess we were to consider ourselves notified and were to take every precaution against acquiring/spreading the disease. That means H1N1 is at our school. It is "here", as in sharing the same building with my children.

The arrival of this disease has mostly done little to effect our neighborhood. Sure the topic of playground conversation has switched to the flu vaccine and whether or not it's a good idea to get the live vaccine or not or whether to even get a vaccine at all. Even in the conversation the tone is one of guarded optimism. H1N1 is "here" in a still sort of "out there" kind of way. We go about our business, keep to our usual routines. Nothing changes.

Until this afternoon. Another email arrives, this time from our grade school. 24 children were absent today, 18 with flu symptoms, 10 of them from one classroom. In fact, that particular classroom had a total of 14 absent children - half of the class. A fifth grade class. The fifth graders just took an overnight trip together earlier this week. My daughter is in fifth grade. The flu is "here", as in affecting her classmates and friends. The flu is no longer a report in the newspaper or a statistic from the health department.

I'm worried. Yes, more than likely most, if not all, of these children (and any others who catch it) will weather the flu unharmed. But...the threat is now here, not out "there". I find it chilling. It's chilling to hear my daughter report that they are required to wash their hands every time they leave their classroom*. It's chilling to think of so many children sick at the same time. It's chilling to think of even the remotest possiblity that our school might have to close for a brief time like one area high school has.

Forget the skeletons and ghouls and spiders. This Halloween season, the scariest thing here in our city is the dreaded flu virus. People just might start wearing masks a little bit early this year.

*This is not at all a commentary on our school's efforts to keep the kids healthy. That they are making the kids wash so frequently isn't chilling. That they have to do so is.

School is Back, Back, Back!

Maybe that's why I'm feeling like things are all scattered and needing to be put back. So first things first, I'm getting the kids put back. Back on schedule. And back in school. The Uber-Princess is still here with me for another day, so I'm not actually alone until the other two get back. But once kindergarten starts, then it's really time to get back on track. Hopefully in the meantime, somebody's got my back. Because it just feels like I've got back to back chores to complete around here. Between supplying the children for school and getting some room occupants swapped, I've been breaking my back to get stuff done. But let me back up a moment: this is "Back to School" week for us. So hopefully this whole scheduling thing will come back to me soon.

In the spirit of the whole back to school thing, check out what Christina Katz is doing on her Writer Mama blog next month:
"For the third year in a row, The Writer Mama, Christina Katz, is giving away thirty books in thirty days. All you have to do to participate is answer the question that Christina will pose daily. One lucky winner will win each day. There is no limit to how many times you can enter. The drawing is for U.S. residents. You don’t have to be a mom, but of course, the event is created with moms in mind, so please tell all the writer mamas you know! See ya in September at http://thewritermama.wordpress.com."

She's even posted a list of books for week one here. So if you're a writer, check it out. Or even if you're just a mama, that's reason enough too.

Same but Different

Yesterday was the first day of Uber-Princess's second year of preschool. I expected it to be the same-old, same-old, even though I told her to expect it to be different. It was different. She was in the same room with one of the same teachers as last year and a few of the same kids. But instead of sixteen kids and two teachers there were only eight kids and one teacher. Smaller, quieter. No long hug goodbye this year, just a little wave. Instead of skipping out to my car without looking back, I shuffled slowly with many little glances over my shoulder. For a couple of hours I was going to miss my little princess.

The trip to Panera felt the same but different too. Different day, different crowd. Ah, but the red-haired retired man in his neat polo, khaki shorts and loafers was there as usual. The cinnamon bagel tasted the same, but cost more. My regular spot was open, but I went to a table next to an outlet for the first time instead. This year I reveled in the bittersweet taste of freedom, but only briefly, before setting to my tasks.

Last year I was a mom new to those hours without children. I felt like I would get lost in the expanse of free time. Now I know all too well the tightness of their boundaries. I am familiar with where they end. Like many moms, that first year I moved more into the space than would fit. This year it's still cramped and crowded, but I can make my way around to what I need. I see that the space has expanded - just a little. And I wonder if it's enough to move in the things outside the door yet. Or must they wait for next year?

A few hours later, I leave my space, my heart a little lighter. I go back to collect my little princess who grabs my hand tight and looks intently into my face as she shows me the baby dolls and dress-up clothes in her classroom. I pick her up and carry her out of the room, enjoying the little hands wrapped around my neck. I savor being with her. And later that evening as her father tells how she ran out to tell him in a breathy voice that "Keeevvvinn" was in her class again, I chuckle. Already the space is becoming more comfortable again - different, but comfortable.

Schools' Rules Schmools

Today was kindergarten round-up...for the Uber-Princess's friends; not for her. And I feel like it was one of those days of no turning back. You see, her birthday is 9 days after the official cut-off. So she must spend another year in preschool (or at home) and wait to be five the day she starts kindergarten. This shouldn't bother me. Many moms of July and August babies fret over them being the youngest in their class and the challenges that brings. The Uber-Princess won't have those problems. However, I anticipate other problems, like, say...boredom.

Here's an example from today of why I worry about this. As I was tucking her into bed for her nap she was commenting on being four-and-a-half (we marked this milestone about a week and a half ago with the ditching of her blankie, because "four-and-a-half-year-olds are big girls"). Then she announced that she could count to four and a half.

To which I replied, "really?"

So she demonstrated. "One, one-and-a-half, two, two-and-a-half, three, three-and-a-half, four, four-and-a-half!"

Need I worry?

Oh, and right before that she was working with our magnetic fridge letters, trying to find the one that says "whuh" as in "Wildcats". Now we have a Fridge Phonics toy that lets you insert the letters and says the sound they make aloud. So she inserted a few until she got to "W". But the fact that a four-and-a-half-year-old cares to learn the letter that starts "Wildcats"? And yesterday she counted to 112, with a few prompts. Need I worry?

I realize kindergarten readiness is composed of more than just academics. So let's see: she dresses herself, feeds herself, separates easily from mom, plays well independently, plays well with others... Now, I don't think she's overly brilliant. Sharp? Yes. Bright? Yes. On target to join other kids the age she'll be nine days after the cutoff? Definitely.

I've been told though, that the rules are the rules. No exceptions are made. No testing will be allowed, no looking at individual cases. So I quickly dropped my thoughts of championing her "early" admittance. And today another door was closed.

God has it all under His control. My daughter's birthday was decided long ago. And God knew the rules of the school she'd be attending. I will enjoy, truly enjoy this extra year with her at home more. I just hope she enjoys the year(s) following that.

Not Cuttin' It

It's the time of year where (if your children are schooled outside the home) you get a report on your children's progress. I look forward to these parent/teacher conferences. It's good to see someone else's perspective on your child's academic & social abilities. And generally we enjoy these conferences since, for the most part, we get positive feedback.

But I just got a progress report from the Uber-Princess's preschool that gave me pause. She's right on target for most things - socially, emotionally, academically. However, it seems as parents we have failed her in one respect: she is somewhat lacking in "scissor skills". That's right, the girl can't cut.

It probably doesn't help that we never actually let her use scissors at home. And that's because...well, I have a thing with giving sharp implements to three-year-olds (never mind that she just turned four, she's in a three's class at the school). So her first experience with cutting was at preschool, which, you can imagine, was less than stellar.

So for now our goal is to work on improving her scissor skills. I'd say she's got her work cut out for her, but that's what got us to this point in the first place, isn't it? The good news is when I arrived home from work the day we got the report I found the Uber-Princess already sitting at the kitchen table making mincemeat of the Sunday coupons. She cut and cut for well over a half hour. I just hope this gets her on track for passing preschool. And if you have a three-year-old (or younger), let this be your warning: if you don't give them scissors soon, they may not make the cut.

Habits

Parents swarmed about, each brandishing the mandatory camera, catching as many moments of this FIRST as they could. Some children stood stiffly in line, afraid to move or to even shift that new backpack. Others hopped from foot to foot, eager to start the day, the year. Down each line came the respective teacher, gently greeting the boys and girls and applying a nametag to each one. All too soon the process was completed. The bell rang. Parents stepped backward, some tripping over younger siblings in their effort to make way for the procession. Tears blurring their eyes. The lines began to stream around the corner and in the door. Then a line suddenly broke off at one child who'd become dazed and missed the movement in front of him. With a prod to his back he regained his focus. Where was the rest of the line? He raced straight ahead, aiming for the wrong door. For the old door. The door of kindergarten.

The rest of the line followed. Cattle. Lemmings. New first graders unsure of this new year of school. Someone waved and turned them around. Back to where they'd started. On around the corner and into the first grade door at last. Starting a new year. Building new habits.

This was funny to watch. And it was almost as funny to hear of third graders who, returning to their class after recess, accidentally went to their second-grade classroom. More than one of them, to more than one room. Oh, the laughter in that school. The joyful confusion of building new habits and new routines.

I'm glad for the new school year. I like the transition, the definite beginning point and a chance to start things new. Like new habits and new routines. Mine are still rough. I'm still returning to the old habits I'd like to erase. And I have to laugh and turn around to redirect my course.

Learning to Read

The first day of summer break I had my girls write out what they'd like to learn this summer (we spend an hour or so each morning on school work during the summer. Kind of like homeschooling...but not). Timid daughter asked to learn "math about money. How to read. How to tell time on a clock (meaning not digital). And math". And so we are. It's mostly fun. I give her several worksheets to do, we discuss things together and find other teachable moments during the day to continue learning. What she's asked to learn is completely within her grasp, so I think we can reach her goals this summer.

But some of it is painful, especially reading. Sitting listening to your child read verrrry sloooowly through a simple book, while exciting in concept, is torture in practice. If the payoff weren't so great, I'd stop. In fact, I'm starting to realize that at least the reading portion of her learning is going to have to come through the aid of more than just one teacher. Because if I have to sit through another half hour of that any time soon...

Okay, there you have it. I'm a bad mom. And this is why I don't homeschool full time (that and I have not been called to homeschooling). I love that my daughter is learning to read, truly love it. And she is doing so well. But it's still painful. I'd much rather listen to her tell what she thinks the words say the way she used to so wonderfully do. But there's no going back. So I guess I'm asking: is anyone willing to come listen to my daughter read for a half hour each day?

Repeat After Me

Over the past few days I've been learning the truth of an old Russian saying I'd forgotten: "repetition is the mother of learning" (of course in the Russian language it's a much more lyrical saying, but it's still worth repeating in English). I've seen it's value in more than one area:

Math: believe it or not, after only a few short days Little Miss History is becoming much more proficient at her subtraction facts. It just took a lot of drilling over and over and over, but enough repetitions and it began to stick.

Scripture memory: I've only got one verse to go and I'll have gotten all of Deuteronomy 6 down. My secret? I carry laminated verse cards in my purse. Then when I'm out and about I pull them out. Stop lights are good times to read them over. Then while driving I just repeat them out loud over and over until I get to the next light. Second-hand benefit? My kids end up learning along with me, whether they want to or not. They're a captive audience.

New skills: There's nothing like doing the same action over and over again to learn a new skill. For example, Musing Dad took Little Miss History skiing a couple of weeks ago. This is an annual tradition for them. Good father/daughter bonding time. This year after a 2 hour class with lots of up and down repetition on the slopes LMH had actually gotten the hang of really skiing, turning both directions and slowing down if she needed to. For further practice she and Musing Dad took the fast lift up and did a few runs down the green hill together, up and down. But then Musing Dad took her up and let her go down on her own while he did a couple of black runs on his own. Musing Mom's reaction when she learned this afterwards? Musing Dad, repeat after me: "I will not send a seven-year-old down the ski hill alone. I will not send a seven-year-old down a ski hill alone. I will not...".

Math, Math, Math

Ugh! Little Miss History is having trouble learning her math facts. And I have no idea how to effectively help her. We do flashcard drills. No dice. We try worksheets. No go. I set her up on the computer doing games and problem sets. But she doesn't get it.

This is reason number two why I haven't considered homeschooling my children (beyond the summer months). My daughter has no desire to be taught by me. I have no idea how to reach her. We both end up incredibly frustrated.

Here's the thing: she's got to learn them. I'm not sure she even understands that part. She works her hardest to just get through the drills or worksheets, but never puts any effort into actually learning. And she also doesn't seem to get that it's just a matter of memorization (which she's good at). She constantly counts in her head instead. It's slow, but she gets to the correct answer and as long as it's not a speed drill then she's fine. Guess what? At this point in the school year it's all about speed.

The thing about this is, she's a bright girl. Most things come easily to her. So actually I'm glad she's hit a wall as early as second grade. It's easier to figure out how to work at learning now than to suddenly face it in high school or college. At least I think it is for her. Just not for me.

No More Pizzas. Only Noodles.

Public schools are getting more boring all the time. First it was no treats with nuts sent for special occasions. This is understandable. And only store bought, packaged treats, not homemade in case the psycho mom had thoughts of poisoning her child's class. Next it was no nut products in individual kids' lunches (what?! No peanut butter? The staple of a grade schoolers lunch?? I called them about it, after all, my daughter needs to eat. They relented since the kids with allergies sit at a separate table).

Then this year they started cracking down on sweets. No candy or any other food treat is to be sent to school for Valentine's Day or other holidays. Gotta take measures to prevent obesity! Thankfully the room moms are still allowed to coordinate treats for the whole class for parties. It's just that kids can't bring any in addition to those, which is fine by me. I'm waiting though. Pretty soon the party treats will go from being cupcakes or donuts to apples or something healthy. In my mind, that kind of negates the concept of "party" and "treat". Obviously you don't want your kids eating those kinds of things every day. But on a special occasion?? Isn't that why it's called a "treat"?

But that's not all. There's even more. Yesterday my daughter came home to reveal the change that broke the proverbial camel's back for this mom. She told me, "My very educated mother just served us noodles." NOODLES??? Who wants noodles? When I was a kid "My very educated mother just served us NINE PIZZAS."! These scientists have taken things too far! Why can't my kids have nine pizzas, even if they're "dwarf" pizzas? Why do they have to be served noodles? Any thoughts?

Donuts & Wardrobes

Yesterday my children got their Krispy Kremes - I mean report cards. Thankfully no surprises there. They generally got donuts- no, no, they got good grades. Yesterday. Today we got donuts: every A (or "plus" for lower elementary) equals a free original glazed donut, up to 6 per child; although today the cashier was being stingy and gave us only 6 total instead of 12 - for my 2 girls. I didn't quibble. It was enough for the four of us. And I bought a coffee so I wouldn't seem as much of a mooch (guilt, guilt, guilt).

After an enjoyable visit with the second grade and kindergarten teachers (yay!), we met my husband for lunch and then took a small "field trip". We've been reading the Chronicles of Narnia as a family. Just started our second time through The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (first time for my 5 and 3-year old). My husband reads us questions and comments from the family guide to the series called Roar (which I highly recommend). It mentioned that the real wardrobe is in Wheaton, Illinois. Just north of Naperville. So guess what we went to see?

It was pretty cool, actually. The Wade Center at Wheaton College has a whole collection of C.S. Lewis' possessions, including his writing desk and the wardrobe that his grandfather built and hand carved. The girls had fun looking into the wardrobe (which actually had fur coats hanging in it). Tolkien fans would appreciate the Center too. It houses writings and other materials from a total of seven Christian authors, some contemporaries and friends of Lewis, and others that figured into his writing (okay, I can't remember for sure how they all fit together, but it was something along those lines). Let's see how many names I can remember: Dorothy Sayers, George MacDonald, Owen Barfield, J.R.R. Tolkien, Lewis, G.K. Chesterton and... the other name escapes me. You can probably guess, if you're familiar with any of these writers, that my children lost interest after they saw all the Lewis and Narnia-related objects.

Seeing the writings of these great authors to and about one another, and reading a little about the writers group they formed together, really inspired me. Writing is such an isolated act. But working in community with other writers can make a huge difference. I know I've appreciated the times I've gotten to meet and share with writer friends. It's the whole "iron sharpening iron" concept in the context of the craft of writing. So, to my writers group friends: it's been too long. Let's get together soon.