It Has Begun

Day 1: The boys woke up excited this morning. We took pictures with their little backpacks and made sure to eat a good breakfast. 

When we got to school, things were so chaotic that there was no time for tears. Owen had a little fit about hanging up his backpack, but I think he was overwhelmed by all of the noise in the hall - I'm hoping he'll get used to it. Then Aidan got upset because he ripped his name tag by accident (they are forced to wear nametags around their necks for the first week), but the teacher fixed it with a little scotch tape. 

When I kissed them goodbye, they were already absorbed in the school's "newscast," which they play every morning on TVs in the classroom (I haven't decided how I feel about that yet). 

Pick-up went well too - we're supposed to wait out in our cars for the kids to exit the building, which is weird, but all of us moms had gathered outside the door to greet them on their first day. The sub special ed teacher walked out with the boys so he could introduce himself. He already seems to care about Owen, so I think we're off to a good start there (despite my concerns yesterday). Let's hope the real teacher is as warm and fuzzy. 

The boys were bubbling with excitement. According to them, they colored, they read "The Kissing Hand," they sang a song, and they ate a snack...pretty much everything you could hope for in a day of kindergarten. 

And so it has begun...let's hope the whole year turns out as well as today. 

Getting Oriented

Tomorrow is the official start of kindergarten, but today was orientation. I really tried to go in there with a good attitude, but in the end, my cynicism was only strengthened. 

As soon as we arrived, they separated parents and kids, which is okay, except that the kids had to spend an hour in a classroom with a teacher that is NOT their kindergarten teacher, while the parents endured a presentation by the actual kindergarten teacher that could have just as easily been read from the nicely stapled packets we all received. The gist? 

• Bring a snack -- but under no circumstances should a peanut come into contact with that snack. 
• Keep your kids home if they're sick -- but you are a negligent parent if you don't send them to school any other day, including if you take them on vacation to Disneyworld. 
  
• Bad kids go to the "quiet room" -- you don't want your kid to go there.
• Your child will have homework every night, which means you will have homework every night because you have to sign off on everything once it's done.

So what can I say? I wasn't impressed. The teacher seems nice enough, but why didn't anyone think to provide a time where the kids could actually meet her? When I went to get the boys from the playroom, Aidan said, "Our teacher wasn't there!" He was (rightly) confused. So I brought them back to the parent-only room to introduce them to their teacher.

I asked their teacher why we haven't received a scrap of information about who Owen's special ed teachers will be. And why weren't any of them there? I know my kid isn't the only one with an IEP - shouldn't this orientation be a little more inclusive? 

As expected, their teacher didn't know anything about it, but she did offer the useful tidbit that the woman in charge of coordinating special ed services at their school had to have surgery and would be out for 4 more weeks. Um, so what does that mean to me? Their teacher guessed that there just wouldn't be any special ed services for 4 weeks (or more)...

So what you are telling me is that my son will have an entire month to settle into the "typical" school routine and then you will begin yanking him out of class to work with teachers he's never met? Brilliant. 

I got home and called the principal to see if he could provide a better answer, but given that it's the first day of school for the rest of the grades, I'm not holding my breath on a call back today. 

I know, it's probably all my fault. I should have called the district back in August when I still hadn't heard anything, but stupid me figured it wouldn't be that big of a deal to simply speak to the teachers at the orientation. I mean, the plan is already documented, all I needed was to meet the people involved. 

Add to all that the fact that they are going to spend next week writing the letter A and learning to read the words I, a, and is, and well, I just don't have a lot of faith. 

And speaking of faith, while we were getting on the school bus that we were all forced to ride around the block (even the kids who aren't going to take the school bus), Aidan pipes up with the question: "Why do all the churches have plus signs on them?" Those are crosses, honey. "What's a cross?" 

And there you have it. Our complete lack of religion exposed before all of my children's would-be friends and their parents. It's not that I'm ashamed that I don't subscribe to organized religion, it's just not a great icebreaker...especially out here in suburbia. 

With this much excitement in a 90-minute orientation, I can only imagine what tomorrow will bring. Here's hoping the kids' enthusiasm eclipses my cynicism. 

Not a Moment Too Soon

We are officially entering the school countdown. Two weeks from today, my little boys will have their first day of kindergarten! 

Even though I just started falling in love with having nowhere to be in the morning, I suspect the start of school is really for the best. We've become a little bit too fond of the Game Show Network. Today my kids watched Match Game 74 (for the first time, I swear) and actually recognized Richard Dawson as the host of "old Family Feud." 

Later, Aidan observed that "it must have taken him many, many years to be the host of Family Feud" because he was so much older in the episode we were watching. 

Don't judge, I'm raising trivia wizards.  

Big Kids

We all survived the first day of camp. The school bus pulled up and on they went...like big 5-year-olds. (sniff, sniff) 

I suppose I can rest easy knowing I've now survived the equivalent of our first day of kindergarten moment -- only my kids actually won't be riding the bus to kindergarten, so if I'm going to get teary-eyed it will have to be when I wave goodbye to them in their little classroom. 

It's funny because I never would have thought I'd get weepy about these things...then again, I used to be able to watch ER without sobbing. Stupid hormones. But it's not that I'm sad that they are going off and doing things independently, it's like I'm so amazed and simultaneously freaked out by it that it makes me emotional. 

I know all of you with older kids can relate, but it's just so weird to think that my tiny babies are off doing things without me all day. Before I had kids, a 5 year old would have seemed so little...now it feels like 5 is so grown up...like college is right around the corner. 

I hate to say it, but I kind of sympathize with those helicopter parents - it's hard to let your kids not need you. But don't get me wrong, if any of you see me turning into one of them, I fully expect you to smack me upside the head. That's an order.

**Unrelated note: I am saying goodbye to my long, long hair today. Chop, chop , chop. More on that later...maybe.**

Judgement Day

Yesterday was kindergarten assessment day. The boys have been registered for kindergarten since February, but apparently they put the assessments off until later...seems inefficient, but I'm pretty sure "inefficiency" is one of the public school system's values.

I thought we'd sit down, I'd meet the teacher, she'd ask me some questions about each kid and then she'd quiz them on their letters and numbers. It wasn't quite so chummy. The teacher asked Aidan to come with her without even introducing herself, then brought him into a room with a poster saying "Respect is not a gift. It has to be earned." Really? How might my 4-year-old earn your respect? I know I'm very cynical when it comes to the school system, but it seemed a little inappropriate for a kindergarten setting.

So anyway, Owen and I sat in the hall for 15 minutes until it was time to switch kids. 20 more minutes passed and the teacher emerged to say, "Sorry it took so long, we went through all of the first grade words as well." I'm glad the kids proved their super-geniusness all on their own, but had she bothered to have a 2-minute conversation with me in advance, I could have told her that they both already read beyond a first-grade level. Her only other comment was that Aidan might have trouble sitting still in class...well, at least he's got something to work on.

Let's just say I do not hold high hopes for next year in terms of intellectual development. The good thing is that the kids don't know they should be bored by spending an entire week on one letter of the alphabet. I am looking forward to seeing how Owen does in the classroom with only the support of a para. Ironically, the only pull-out service he'll get next year is social skills. The goal, of course, is that he will no longer need special support when he gets to first grade, but my own quest is to figure out whether he can successfully learn in a system designed for neurotypical kids...really, that's my quest for both of them.