What happens when your 1st grader is in a classroom with 3rd graders

Better yet, I taught her the version of the song that I remember, the one about the naked ladies dancing and the hole in the wall. Oops.

Happy Friday.

Donors Choose (to continue making me weep)

Remember when I donated to Donors Choose? Yesterday I got a packet of thank-you notes from the kids who received the scissors and tape. Some excerpts:

"So, thank you again for the scissors and tape just remember it helped a lot. Sincerely, Mike"

"You know what, I was the one who came up with the name 'cut into education' that was cool wasn't it. Thanks again. Sincerely, Kenny"

"We really appreciate the scissors that you sent. Before, when we were doing a project last year in seventh grade, we had the worst scissors. (I mean that in a bad way) They coudn't cut for anything and they always got caught in the paper. This letter is to tell you thank you for the scissors and tape. Sincerely, Khalil"

"The scissors helped a lot because we had these crappy ones and they didn't even cut. And the tape, we didn't even have any, but you gave us some and now we use it for a lot of stuff. Every time I see them I think of you and I say thanks in my head. Sincerely, Sean"

Thank YOU for reading because every page view helped fund that project.

And if you are still feeling charitable: My sister is running a marathon through Team in Training. She only needs $850 more to reach her goal of $3800. If the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society is a group you'd like to support, consider throwing a few bucks my sister's way. She would appreciate it!

Further adventures in firefighting

The best part is she didn't even tell us she did this. We only found out from the pictures. Even then she just acted like it was no big thang.

And I have to say, for a photo taken on a disposable camera by an 8-year-old, I rather like it.

Monday miscellany*

One of our neighbors--the kind of guy who keeps a TV in his garage and watches NASCAR on it all weekend, and I think that says a lot about a person--has put up an Obama yard sign.

*

Jo learned this song at after-school care:

We will, we will
Rock you
Sock you
Flush you in the toilet
Hope that you enjoy it!

As well as:

Made you look, made you look, now you're in the baby book!

I confess I missed these two in my own upbringing.

*

We did our annual autumn pumpkin patch/agritainment excursion this weekend. The trees are gorgeous. Whenever I see beautiful fall leaves I always remember the banquet director from our wedding reception. Since our wedding was in the fall, he made sure to note that the dining room overlooked a wooded mountain, the better to showcase the fall foil-age.

*thanks to Leighann for the title

Aiding and abetting my junior scientist

My husband thought I was completely nuts when I allowed this:


Yes, we literally played with fire. For the record, we learned that paper and toothpicks are flammable, but grapes and spoons are not.

Refrigerator update below.

Grade 1, Day 1

(Here's last year's, for comparison.)

We were almost late this morning, due to preschooler freak-outs including:

• I wanted to see you in your PAJAMAS! [to me when I went into his room already dressed]
• No you CAN'T come out of MY ROOM!
• My shirt is TOO BIG!
• NO! Don't put your arm around me. Jo! I put MY ARM around YOU!
• NO bike trailer! NO silver car! ONLY THE BLACK CAR!

In the end he rode in the silver car (Daddy's) and then the bike trailer. So there.

Slacker mom goes back to school

In eight days I'll have a first grader in da house, and: a) I have done next to nothing to prepare and b) I'm pretty darn fine with that. It's like having that second baby. For the first one, you spend 47 hours trying to pick out a stroller and another 47 washing all the newborn clothes (the ones my jumbo-size infant didn't even fit in anyway) in that silly baby detergent. When the second one comes along, he gets the hand-me-down stroller and his clothes get washed next to the socks your husband wore the last time he mowed the lawn. And you know it's okay.

Really, there are just a few basics that a new baby really needs, and the same goes for first-graders. Backpack? Last year's is fine, and so is the lunchbox (actually, I think we ended up with about four of those last year). School supplies? Ordered through the PTA last May. Clothes? Her closet is overstuffed as it is. In a few months, if I realize she's short on jeans or tights or long-sleeved tees, I'll fill in the gaps. Underwear? Covered. The only thing left to do is replace the gym shoes we bought a year ago.

Occasionally I have a fleeting moment of "shouldn't I take her shopping, make a big deal out of it?" Then I decide: Nah. There are plenty of other ways to celebrate the occasion, and most of them don't cost a cent.

... today's confession brought to you by PBN and Hanes Kids.

20 lousy pairs of scissors

Last fall I promised to take my BlogHer ads earnings for the academic year and donate them to a teacher through DonorsChoose. So it's time for me to report back on the teacher I chose.

I searched the DonorsChoose site for projects in New Jersey (where my kids would have attended public schools if we hadn't pulled up stakes and moved to Mayberry) in the amount I had to give. It's not a lot, but that's the idea behind DonorsChoose--individual donors supporting individual teachers in small efforts that make a big difference to students.

Possibilities included:

• We have over 100 books in our classroom library. Unfortunately, we do not have a place to display those books. They are currently sitting in crates and boxes and my students have to sift through them to find the book or dictionary that they need. This is time consuming as well as damaging to the books.
  
  
• My classroom is extremely noisy due to the old chairs squeaking on the floor. I've tried to minimize the noise by cutting up tennis balls and placing them on the feet of the old chairs, but it isn't solving the problem. My students already have a disability in that they have difficulty processing oral language, and the noise just adds to this problem. I need a large carpet which would reduce noise and make a more conducive learning environment.
  
  
• My kindergarten class is filled with 25 eager and excited learners! However, during literacy centers, their enthusiasm is starting to fade because of the lack of interactive materials that are available. I want to create a center where students can use a multi-sensory approach to phonics practice. At this center, my students would have fine-motor practice by rolling play dough into a thin layer. The children will then use uppercase and lowercase letter molds/cookie cutters to punch out letters to complete different tasks.
  
  
• Our school started a wonderful reading program for students at home. We supply the books and the students read at home every night. However, it is becoming harder to supply the students with enough materials on their reading level. My students love to read and read at least 1-5 chapters per night. They are reading through all the books in our classroom.

In the end I decided to fund a project for Mrs. C's classroom of 6th to 8th graders with special needs:

Since the first day of school this year my students have been complaining about
my canister full of ancient scissors. They are constantly asking to borrow the
"teacher scissors" which have mysteriously disappeared on more than one
occasion. If we had a class set of "teacher scissors" my students would be able
to really create the masterpieces I know they are capable of creating. We would
also love some tape to proudly display our work outside of the classroom.

Can you believe that? Scissors and tape. It's so simple that I want to cry. I'm not going to get into the politics of education reform and funding, but can we all stop and think for a minute how ridiculous it is that a teacher has to beg for basic supplies like these?

Updated to add: My teacher already sent a lovely thank-you note this morning (Tuesday):

You would not believe how excited I was today when I opened my email and
found that my Scissors That Slice proposal had been funded. Even though it is
summer break I will see a few of my students at our Summer Book Club in a few
days and I will be able to share the good news. The students will be ecstatic to
hear that we are getting new supplies, just for us! Before school ended we would
check the Donors Choose website at the beginning of each day to see if anyone
else had sponsored us! I can't wait until next fall to work with my students to
make beautiful projects with our new scissors and tape! Thank you so much for
your kindness and generosity! We really do appreciate it!

Updated to add again:

Kindergarten closing time

Time for you to go out, go out into the world.

Turn the lights up over every boy and girl.

One last call for alcohol, so finish your whiskey or beer.

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.

I'm sorry for the cheese. But it's not every day your baby girl graduates from kindergarten.

Eat THAT!

I always thought it would be very cool to have a carnivorous plant. I mean, how excellent is that? It's a plant, it's entertainment, it keeps down the insect population in your home. Triple winnah. But apparently, the Venus fly trap requires more care than your average houseplant. For starters, you have to know to "Never, never, never feed your fly trap hamburger."

Seeing as how I have never managed to keep a single plant alive ever (I'm not kidding. Thumb=pitch black), it really wouldn't be a good idea for me to take on a plant that's temperamental and might bite off my finger if I made it mad.

That's why the pretend Venus Fly Trap from the Discovery Channel Store is a good idea, and why I reviewed it today on behalf of Parent Bloggers Network. Come find out more about what we thought at The Full Mommy.

Also, pls note that speaking of bugs, am heroine and stereotype-buster. Last week a kid brought a spider into my daughter's classroom after school and the teacher and other mommies were freaking out. I helped him corral it into a small, clear container with a magnifying lens on top so he could observe it for awhile and then dump it outside. Oh yeah. My kid is totally going to be at the top of her class now.

Only across the street

I grew up in a smallish college town (one that's since grown considerably). There wasn't much to do, of an evening, unless you were possessed of a fake ID and a really short skirt. So once we'd seen whatever movie there was to see we would always end up at a Roy Rogers downtown. It was on one of the main drags, the street that separated town from gown. We'd get a couple of orders of fries and sit in a booth up front, next to the huge plate glass windows that overlooked this street and the campus on the other side of it. I can't remember ever seeing anything of interest, except maybe the one time our state representative was at the fixin's bar and it turns out he wasn't a hair over 5 feet tall.

And that was inside the restaurant. Outside, even though everyone in our little world passed by at some point, still nothing ever happened, or at least that's how it feels when you are 16, right? Across the avenue, on the campus side, there was a low stone wall that ran along the sidewalk. As Roy's was our preferred hangout, The Wall was where you could always find the kids from our district's "alternative" high school, the one for kids too bored or stoned or smart or unconventional or disruptive to attend the regular program. Never, of course, the twain would meet; we thought they were weird and they thought we were bourgeois and you know how those high school rules are, about who you can associate with and who you most certainly cannot.

If you're lucky or wiser than most you realize how foolish this at the time or shortly after. Of course it took me closer to 15 years, mostly because I stopped thinking about high school within minutes of moving that tassel on my mortarboard. Then one night when Jo was a baby I was on a message board, doing that new-mom thing. Suddenly another mother and I realized that we'd grown up in the same place at the same time, but we'd never met because she was a Wall person and I wasn't, and neither of us would've ever considered crossing the street to meet the other.

And I sort of thought by writing this I'd now arrive at a neat conclusion about how motherhood brings unlikely people together (and so does the Internets). Which I do think is true. But mostly I just felt like telling the story about the street and how it looked from my side then and how different it looks now. Not nearly so wide.

Recorded for posterity

Okay, lest you get the wrong idea that I am particularly holy or brave, I will mention that on Easter Sunday, I spent an unseemly amount of time snickering when Jo, while attempting to read a menu, innocently asked what a "happy hour" was. Only she said "happy whore."

This reading and writing thing is delighting me daily. It has taken forever to get to this point. I was not previously aware that reading is a milestone akin to potty training, or sleeping through the night. It takes way longer than you think it will, progress comes in the tiniest of increments (and waxes and wanes daily), various experts are always ready with a quick-fix solution whether or not you need it, and you might feel compelled to exaggerate your child's progress.

Yesterday Jo was busily writing one of her random letters to no one. I reminded her that we promised to send Tacy a postcard. Without missing a beat she took another piece of paper, neatly wrote NOT NOW, and continued with what she was doing.

The postcard was worth the wait, though. She composed it tonight.

Dere Tasee
We liket your latdr we are sating a noow latdr becos you ask for
a now won
Love Jo
form Wiskosisn

Haiku Friday: Little pitchers

Just thought you should know
I know something you think I
don't. Kids have big mouths

*

Twice in the past few days, while I haunted the coatroom, kindergartners have blurted out info that I'm guessing their parents would rather not have bruited about. One was a child who said that her mom might be sending her to parochial school soon. The other was a boy who told me that his parents were considering a move ... not such a big deal except that his mother is a teacher at the school, possibly even Jo's teacher next year. (Him: "They're thinking of moving to the place with the first Montessori school." Me: " ... Italy?" Him: [vzzzzhhh sound of words flying over his head].)

Word to the wise: Don't say anything about anything in front of your kid.

*

All from yesterday:

Opie, to day care director: I'm going to see Dr. B___. He takes care of my whole body!
Opie, to doctor: I am getting a big boy bed. I am not going to get out!
Opie, to neighbor: My big boy bed is upstairs. It is a tiger cage!
Opie, to teacher: When you come to my house to a football game party you will need a ticket. [Note: There is no such party]

My position may be softening ... slightly

I posted whinily about extracurricular activities a few months ago, but I confess that the last two days have me considering a change of heart.

Yesterday, Opie started swimming. It's been months since I've enrolled him in a class because he was very iffy about participating before (unlike big sister, who's always been a happy little goldfish/kipper/shrimp). This time, he loved it. I felt a little weird with this nearly 3-year-old in a pool full of infants, but he had a blast. He sang, he blew bubbles, he kicked, he scooped his little hands, he counted "one ... two ... FREE!" and jumped in fearlessly. Sometimes he even counted "onetwofreefourfivesissebbenainineten" and then jumped. The first thing he said to his teacher this morning, just before regaling her with the Motorboat song, was "I went swimming!"

It's allllmost worth having to shower him in the squicky locker room afterward.

Then today, Jo had a 90-minute art class and I spent the whole time reading magazines and drinking tea (Opie was still at school). Tomorrow's her turn for swimming, and since I don't have to go in the pool with her, I'm counting on more tea and more magazines. Now that's what I had in mind when I shelled out for these activities.

Of course, after I got home today (with both kids in tow and hours of child-juggling and dinner-preparing ahead of me) I realized I had intended to devote the afternoon to some research for a freelance job. Oops. Monday it is, then.

(Mostly unrelated photo: from the Georgia Aquarium last spring.)

Gimme a merit badge in "grumpy"

My child has been a school-ager for all of 7 weeks now and I have decided I hate enrichment activities. I hate gymnastics because it is too far away and there is nowhere to wait safely and sanely with a 2-year-old in tow. I usually flee to Wal-Hell (to borrow Jamie's term) and that should give you an idea of how awful it is to stay at the gym.

I hate swimming because of the changing into suits/changing back to clothes, the grungy showers, the (again) dealing with the toddler in the locker room.

I hate soccer because I had to sign up two weeks ago (and pay $85) for a season that starts next May. And I had to pay an extra $25 so I wouldn't have to be an assistant coach or some other ill-defined volunteer job that I have no interest in or time for.

I hate dance because of the inappropriate songs and costumes (Chicago's "All That Jazz" for 4-year-olds, anyone?).

I hate music because my son opts to stand in the corner, crawl under the table, or throw things and I'm left scraping sandpaper all by myself.

I do like Sunday school. It amounts to free babysitting and there are doughnuts after.

Tell me it gets better when the kids get older, and I just sit in the car with a book while they're off somersaulting or playing the French horn or whatever.

Please?

A milestone I would have preferred to put off for awhile

10/23/07: First Call from the Principal (Regarding a Disciplinary Issue).

So apparently Jo decided to let her fists do the talking during a.m. recess today. And then she and her sparring partner kept up their beef once they returned to the classroom. Pretty soon they both earned themselves a trip to the principal's office. I don't know about the other kid (the principal intimated that there was more than enough blame to be shared by the two of them), but Jo's punishment was to miss the next recess and to sit by herself at the "behavior table" during lunch.

The thought of her small little self eating her lunch all alone makes me want to cry.

Setting that aside, I am wondering what the etiquette of all this is. Obviously I will reinforce the "use your words" lesson at home, but do I also have her write a note of apology? To the other kid, the teacher, the principal, all of the above? When I see the teacher after school, do I say something (keep in mind she'll be in the doorway of the school with tons of other kids and parents swarming around)?

And what did the other kid say that made Jo want to punch him in the stomach?

Update, 10/24: I've now talked to Jo, the teacher, and another mother who happened to witness the big fight. Apparently the other child was all up in Jo's face calling her "stupid." She told him several times to stop and he wouldn't, so she slugged him. The two adults corroborated Jo's contention that she was provoked by this child, so I am going to let it go. No apology for him! And since I spoke to the teacher (she called me yesterday afternoon, which I appreciated; I had quickly caught her eye at pick-up time and said "I'm sorry, I'll talk to her"), I don't think we need to get into an apology note for her either.

I do feel bad that this dispute interrupted class time, but then again, kindergarten is about learning social skills and how to interact in a group. I reminded Jo this morning to steer clear of the name-caller, and to ask for help from an adult if she needed it. I think she'll be fine, and honestly? I'd rather have an assertive girl than a pushover.

It's a tur-ku kind of day

Snack duty this week
Daughter insists on lunchmeat
Just like Grace's mom brought

But wait there is more
We must use cookie cutters
To style our turkey

Guess what? Turkey's thin
Rips, shreds, grease on my fingers
Kid, never again

True story! Our turn to bring snack and we have to live up to the Platonic ideal set by Grace's mom, who brought some unspecified "meat" and cheese slices cut into acorn and leaf shapes. I at least talked Jo into storebought, pre-cut cheese but no such luck in the meat category. Trying to be healthful, I bought thickly sliced turkey. Word to the wise: It totally fell apart. Next time you need to cut lunchmeat into cute shapes, I recommend salami or bologna. Just FYI.

What are your kids learning in school?

About 978.58 miles, give or take

That's exactly how far I'd go for my kids. It's how far I went when we moved from New York City to Mayberry.

OK, so that's not really what the Parent Bloggers Network meant with today's Blog Blast question, but watch while I string this together.

We moved because we wanted more space, safety, and time (which we'd get by eliminating commuting from our daily routine). And we wanted good schools, without having to pay exorbitant tuition or be a part of the loony urban private school admissions scene.

I believe in public school. Every child has a right to a free, high-quality education, one that will prepare him to be a successful, productive adult. And everyone in a community--young or old, parent or not--has a responsibility to make sure that education is available.

But was I willing to stand on principle and send my kid to a school where only two-thirds of her class could be considered "proficient" in language arts? Where 80% of her classmates would qualify for free or reduced lunch? Where the paint was probably chock full of lead, and the textbooks out of date? Where she'd be Left Behind before she even finished kindergarten?

I wasn't. It was enough for me to juggle a job (with commute), a child, a husband, and an apartment, without trying to add "singlehandedly reform crappy public school" to my list.

My ethics, in this case, took a back seat to my child's immediate needs--and I still feel bad about it. Because this is how we got into this mess. The smart, savvy parents walk: to the suburbs, to the private schools, even to their own home-school classrooms. The just-trying-to-keep-their-heads-above-water parents stay. They don't have the time (courage, wherewithal, awareness, language skills, etc.) to agitate for change. Things get worse and the cycle continues.

Since moving back to the crummy school district is not an option for us, and neither is coming up with a magic answer to this country's public school crisis, I'll have to start smaller. If I win the prize on this blog blast, I'll take my winnings and donate them to a public school teacher through Donors Choose. If Random.org doesn't smile on me this time, I'll take all my BlogHer Ads earnings from now through the end of the school year and donate them instead.

I'll tell my kids how lucky they are to live in a place where school is free, fun, and actually educational. I'll tell them that not every child is so blessed. And I'll tell them that they just might be the ones who could make it right.

High School Musical is a gateway drug

I should have known. I should have known! She started watching HSM when Jeff brought a DVD home from work. We thought it was cute that she liked the big kids singing and dancing (she also likes Singin' in the Rain). It seemed harmless enough and she even caught on to some of the lessons about peer pressure and why it isn't nice to act like Sharpay does.

Fast-forward to last month, when HSM2 came out ... and one or the other of those movies, or some portion thereof, is showing daily in my living room. Patois warned me to pull the plug, but did I listen? Of course not. As long as the daily intake didn't exceed recommended allowances, I let her keep watching, figuring the appeal would wear off eventually. (Hey, it worked for Maisy.)

So. All you parents of older kids can guess what happened. While I was out of town last week, those wily geniuses at Disney sunk their hooks ever deeper into my child. And now? She wants to watch this. And this.

Oh dear God.

P.S. We do not have the creepy bedding with the creepy Zac Efron pillow. In fact, the only merch we have so far is the DVD that started it all. So at least there's that.

Cross-posted at The Full Mommy.

A real pain in the wrasse

All I didn't really need to know I learned in the first three weeks of kindergarten:

1. If the teacher says it, then It Is So. "Mommy, we can eat that brown stuff on the apple. It's just from air."

2. There is a fish called a wrasse that specializes in cleaning the teeth of other fish by swimming into their mouths and eating leftover food. Yum!

3. "Dear Parents: We have had a case of head lice reported in your child's classroom ... "