Starting School: The Bad Mom Way

Since Sam was in utero, I have dreamed about him starting school. I've drooled over the aisles of school supplies each summer, just waiting for the day when we'd pick our pencil case, our backpack... you get the idea.

Starting last spring, we began receiving little glimpses of elementary school life. We went to kindergarten enrollment. (Previously called screening, which they still do but don't want to call it that or be too critical because that wouldn't be PC.) One thinks, as an educated and modern mama, that the point of such a process would be information. I have learned, however, that parents are on a strictly need-to-know basis. We provide all sorts of personal information about our kid and ourselves, but when it comes to dates or procedures or even expectations we can have for our first school days-- don't need to know.

So, welcome to August, where I ("new parent") am bombarded with required meetings and events-- all before Labor Day. Some with kids, some without kids. Some informative, some social. Some required, all required-- who knows? Therefore, here I am, trying to navigate the complex world of Elementary School.

Top off the total sense of confusion with something I should have expected, but in fact did not: social hierarchy. Why is it I feel like I have returned to junior high? It seems so obvious who the cool parents are and the fun parents and the popular parents... throw in the conservatives vs liberals, rich vs poor, and worst of all the concerned and the nonchalant. Who do you want to be? What do you want the other parents to think about you? The world and identity I've worked hard to create, to earn, to be in other spheres of my life is irrelevant here. I'm an unknown, and whether or not that will be good enough for everyone else is unknown too.

Of course, all of this heavy pressure comes from the inner desire to create the perfect school experience for your child-- sign up for the right volunteer opportunities, the right after-school clubs, the perfect Cyclone sweatshirt. As if any of that will actually impact their experience at all. The truth is, Sam's school years are his, not mine, and it's his role to create. He was totally cool with the whole process. In the car on the way to school, he said, "I want to try everything. Everything you can do, I want to do." And he shook hands with other kids and introduced himself, just like he always does. He'll be exactly who God made him to be. And he's so much stronger and bolder and more secure than I think that he is, and I know he will be just fine.

Now whether I'll make it or not remains to be seen...

Such a sucker

The countdown to Kindergarten is on. In my head, a clock is ticking away every day, every minute until my little man steps on the bus for transition day.

For those who don't know, transition day is elementary school code for letting the kindergarteners have a practice day all to themselves before being trampled by the more experienced bullies, I mean, 6th graders. They even have a "yahoo/boohoo party" during the morning, which I think means that the parents of kindergartners who are home on friday mornings get together and bond. Aren't I going to be spending enough time with these people over the next 7 years?

The impact on my life seems to be that I have become a total pushover to the whims of my son. Now, he's gone to timeout twice in the last 24 hours for disobedience and attitude (yes, my son, with the attitude). But if he wants to play computer all day, fine. If he wants to build a space ship in the living room, whatever.

Case in point: yesterday I took him to piano. This is Monday routine: Kate to Jo's, Sam to piano, Sam to Jo's, mom to work. Well, he heard me making plans for Five Guys, and wanted to come to lunch too. It's an adult lunch, with boring conversation, I said. No games. No problem, he responded. So, he came.

Then during lunch, he looks at me with those big eyes, and comes over to give me a hug and tell me that I'm his "best mommy." I assume this public appreciation will disappear with many other vestiges of youth on August 14.

So, when I mention going to Jo's and he gets all, "Let's run errands. Let's spend the day together." What am I supposed to do? Run errands. Spend the day together, even though that is Sam code for going downstairs to play Jump Start World while I work upstairs.

It's going to be a long two weeks (but oh so short!!!!)