Tag: school (Page 12 of 13)

A quick update on the girls.

M. is now a month into her real Catholic school experience. All continues to go well, although she is crankier in the morning than she was the first couple weeks. She has a BFF, and they’ve hosted each other for post-school playdates. Obviously a lot can change, but I keep thinking that my wife met her best friend when they were six or seven. It may be someone else, but there’s always the chance that someone in M.’s class will be her friend for life.

Along those lines, several parents are organizing a dinner for the parents of the two kindergarten classes. The invitation noted that our kids will be in school together for the next nine years, so we should all get to know each other. Just another reminder that M. isn’t a little kid anymore.

She aced her first big test. While the other kids at her school were collecting sponsors for a Spell-a-thon, the kindergarteners had to be able to identify all their colors, the name of their school, and define “kindness”. When I asked her how it went, she said, dismissively, that it was easy. In most areas we feel like she’s very comfortable and confident thanks to the base she built last year.

We signed her up for Girl Scouts, or Daisy Scouts I guess. Until she’s old enough for the official kickball team¹, I guess this will be her big school-related activity.

C. went back to preschool last week. She was excited to be back. I think she was a bit jealous that M. got to start before her. Not much to report on her end yet. She’s happy when it’s a day for her to go to school, disappointed when she has a day off. She was pouty in the car last Friday after pickup. Apparently her best friend played with someone else on the playground. C.’s going through a crying stage, so we hope she didn’t break down during recess.

L. is still the funniest kid ever. She’s a chatterbox, sings all the time, and faithfully chases her sisters and the neighbor kids around when they’re playing outside. One of her favorite things to do it hang out with me on the couch after breakfast. We’ve been doing it since M. started school, so it’s part of her morning ritual now. After she eats, she runs into the living room, climbs up on the couch, and pats the armrest saying, “C’mon, Daddy. C’mon” I turn on a show, she snuggles up next to me, and we have a few minutes together before I help get M. off to school.

I’m in a bit of a photo/video rut. I need to break that. The girls do some cute shit that I need to force you all to look at.

We survived week one of school. M. did fantastic, for the most part. We had a few challenges with afternoon pickup once she began full days, but those were all parental errors and we had smoothed them out by Friday. S. was off last week, so hopefully things continue as smoothly this week when I’m on my own.

M. seemed to have a great time each day. She was always happy and excited about what she had done that day when we picked her up. By Friday she had a BFF and was planning a play date with her. We’ll see if how soon she has a new BFF. Also, when she hopped into the van Friday, she screamed that she had lost a tooth. We didn’t even know it was loose, but tooth #5 popped out during recess. Quite a cap to her first week.

Last week was also the first week of high school football here in Indiana. I was originally scheduled to cover a game, but as one of our sister papers was already covering it, my editor chose to pick up their story rather than send me. I was pumped for the season to begin, so was a little disappointed to not get out for week one. I am scheduled to cover what should be an excellent game this week, though. I get to see a solid 5A team play the #1 3A team in the state. This will be the first game I’ve been assigned to that isn’t a blowout, at least on paper. I’m not holding my breath, though.

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It’s been interesting to see all the first day of school pics on Facebook over the past couple weeks. What’s struck me most is the distribution of kids M.’s age. Many are starting kindergarten this fall. Others are, like her, going through kindergarten for the second time. A smaller group is going on to the first grade.

This article doesn’t completely fit what we did but it still struck close to home. I don’t know that we agonized over our decision. We did put a lot of thought into it. But repeating kindergarten seemed like the best decision for M.’s happiness and comfortable development. It also seemed like what most parents we know around here with kids similarly aged were doing. In fact, we think every kid that was in her kindergarten class last year is repeating this year.

I occasionally have some qualms about our decision. I’m mostly worried about her being bored by repeating material from last year. It’s my hope being in a different environment with a different curriculum and a longer day will offer her enough challenges that the areas in which she is proficient, reading for instance, don’t become problematic as the class slows to bring along her classmates.

The two big takeaways, though, are: teaching is tough, especially at the younger ages where age differences of 18 months can make a huge difference in development. We ask a lot of our teachers. Second, it’s easy to become paralyzed as a parent. You can second-guess yourself endlessly about every decision you make concerning your kids. My best advice: do lots of research, ask lots of questions of other parents, then trust in what you believe to be the best path.

What once seemed like an aberration — something that sparked fierce dinner party debates — has come to seem like the norm. But that doesn’t make it any easier for parents.

And she’s off!

M. started kindergarten today at the school we plan for her to attend for the next nine years.¹ She was up early and excited to get her uniform on and get out the door.

We walked her to her class, put her things in her cubby, and helped her find her seat. She sat and started coloring and we drifted away to the parent welcome coffee in the cafeteria. She knows two boys in her class, one from her preschool and the other is a family friend, so she’s not flying blind.

The school had an ice cream social last week, where we got to meet the teacher and her assistant and get a feel for the policies and expectations in the class. Her teacher is young but seems to have her stuff together. She was highly recommended by other friends who have been through the school.

Today and Tuesday are half days; normally M. will be in school from 8:00-3:00. When we picked her up at noon, she was full of things to tell us. They had chocolate milk at lunch! They got to go outside two times! They read a book she had read two years ago in her fours class! It seemed like the day went well.

When we got home, she rushed in to change her clothes then ran out to tell Grace, the five-year-old next door, all about it.

“My new school is the greatest!”
“You have to walk to the playground but once you get to the black concrete, you can run as fast as you want!”
“I’m best friends with the two Graces in my class!”
And on and on and on.

Not a bad start. Although she did question why she had to wear a uniform to school on the way home. I guess the honeymoon there is already over.

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The school year is almost over, but it’s never too late for the teachers to ban items from the classroom.

M.’s class has been overrun by the scourge of our times: Silly Bandz. For the non-parents, or parents of younger kids, Silly Bandz are basically colored rubber bands that have been molded to the shape of kid friendly objects: pets, dinosaurs, zoo animals, etc. Kids wear them as bracelets and trade them with friends and classmates. It’s one of those dead simple inventions that has someone sitting on an island, sipping fruity drinks, and figuring out how to move their business off-shore to avoid taxes. It’s not unusual to see kids walk into class with their arms completely covered with Silly Bandz. M. and C. have both come home with them from birthday parties, or from friends who were willing to share some of their own.¹ They hit the mother load over the weekend when they each got a package for C.’s birthday.

Anyway, we limited the girls to wearing one for each year of age to school; M. can wear five, C. four. There was complaining, but for the most part they’ve gone along with that rule. On Wednesday, though, M. came home and said her teacher told the class Silly Bandz would not be allowed in class anymore. As M. told it, Mrs. B. was tired of having to compete with Silly Bandz for her students’ attentions. I understand her frustration, but I also laugh at the image of her trying to lead the class in a lesson and looking up to see 12 kindergarteners arguing over who gets the green Stegosaurus and who gets the blue star. It’s a laugh of sympathy and understanding.

So kudos to Mrs. B. for saying “Enough!” I bet that by the end of the summer, when the Silly Bandz have run their course, we’ll be picking them out of couch cushions, from behind beds and dressers, etc. and tossing them into the trash without a word of protest from the girls.