Friday, August 28, 2009

kindergarten already

The boy started kindergarten a little more than a week ago. I remember my first day of kindergarten. I told him as much. I remember my own mom saying that very phrase to me. I went on to tell the boy how awful my teacher was and I was sure that his teacher was no where near that awful, that in fact, she was quite wonderful. He stopped me mid-sentence, "I know mom you don't need to tell me again." Alrighty then. We got out of the mom mobile and I just kept going on with my story.

me: "Grandma and Grandpa wanted to take my picture and I didn't want them to. We are going to take your picture but don't worry your parents are no where near as lame as grandma and grandpa so we won't embarrass you or anything."

The husband: "Really Jennie? Really? He's going to repeat this."

me: "Well it was true I didn't want them to take my picture there were big kids around and it was soooooo embarrassing. Oh, look here we are at your room."
The husband pulls out the video camera and starts to film. I nervously glance around. Are we the lame parents? The older grades have already started school and are at recess. I don't need anyone making fun of the five year olds because we are filming the kids' every move. It appears that all the parents have two to three forms of precious moments capturing devices: video camera, camera, iPhone (you know for the instant upload to facebook). At least I fit right in. The boy happily poses for his pictures. Not just one but many. As do all the other kids in his class.

the boy and the husband moments before the start of school


The teacher opens the door and the kids go racing in. The parents are saying nervous goodbyes and then the teacher says, "Oh, you all can come in too." Whew! we thought we were going to have to leave them here...alone. So we go into the class room and its big with little tables and hooks for backpacks, all in all a typical kindergarten classroom. The teacher read us ALL a story. The adults were trying to hold it together. Then we said a quick goodbye. I went to the car and blubbered for a little bit. Not really sure why. So here ends the sappy kid goes to school for the first time blog. Now onto my thoughts...

Later in the week we had back to school night. This was three days into the year and I had pretty much gotten used to the idea that the boy was now in school and my life and schedule are now dictated by this fact. This maybe is why some people homeschool; the mere annoyance of not being in charge of your child's schedule. You know I can no longer fly off to Rome mid October if my heart desires because someone has to learn about the letter Q that week. Back to back to school night. Since we moved to Mayberry I have learned that everyone is convinced around here that if their child doesn't get into the right kindergarten/elementary school they are doomed to be a chimney sweep apprentice forever. No Harvard for you...you went to the WRONG white suburban middle class grade school. I may or may not have gotten caught up in that type of thinking. The gym of the school was PACKED. As in standing room only to hear the principal speak about how great Mayberry's school was and how wonderful the custodians and lunch ladies are. And then when it was time to go meet the dear children's teachers the principal DISMISSED us. You know, like, he gave us a brief little run down of how to exit the gym and to do it orderly and then dismissed us from left to right. The husband looked at me and pointed out that we were adults and perhaps could leave the gym orderly on our own accord. I laughed and pointed out that he used to be in the military and so should be used to pointlessness. But I felt the same way. I remember in that moment why school so utterly annoyed me growing up. Being bossed around. At that moment when I was being instructed on how to leave the gym in an orderly fashion a very immature desire rose up in me, "I could just get up and walk out and leave at my leisure and NOT when the principal dismisses me. That'll show these Mayberry squares. Then I'll start wearing my Doc Martens that are buried in a box somewhere, or if the Vans store would ever start selling the purple fuzzy chukka boots (once I convince the Vans salesclerk to stop calling me ma'am) I'll go buy some of those. It was as if the 90s came sat on my lap. Where are those baggy jeans of mine? Where is that pink or black hair dye? HOW DO I HAVE A KID IN KINDERGARTEN? That was really what this was about. Maybe if I think immature thoughts about how incredibly stupid catch phrases like Respect and Responsibility are I won't be old enough for this. My kid won't be in school. He'll still be a small boy who loves his mom more than anything. He won't refuse to kiss me in public or hug me in front of his friends like he did on the second day of school. He'll want to hold my hand simply because I am mom. I handled preschool well. It was preschool. I saw it as a break. It was adorable. It was sweet. Public school is where kids go and learn naughty things. I am not naive. My kid will learn naughty things. Thank God for big fat baby. Because if he weren't a baby during all of this starting school emotional upheaval I am pretty sure I would force my husband to have sex with me to procreate. You know to make more people, namely babies and not kindergartners, and not just for the hell of it. But instead I am consoling myself with the very lame OnDemand Comcast music: Classic Alternative. Classic. The music of my youth is now considered Classic.

Its been so long I almost forgot my password

Back in June I went a little nuts, actually I think it was May but hey who's keeping track. Anyway after deciding that enough was enough and I was just merely bored and needed a project to keep my mind busy I though what better a project than selling a house. Mine in particular. So I brazenly asked the husband (or really announced) "Let's put the house on the market for X amount and see what happens." He said sure. So, I called in reinforcements and we staged the house. And it sold in two weeks, we were averaging 3-4 showings a day it certainly gave me a project. Try keeping a very small house with three tiny kids in it clean, and not just clean but show clean. We got asking price. I am pretty sure the staging did it. Staging is like Disney World, lots of distraction to keep you looking in the right direction and to keep all thoughts away from the actual square footage of the house. I found my dream home, got a slamming deal on it, moved in two weeks early and the Jennie household lived happily ever after.

Well we moved in anyway. I am in a much better mood that I usually am. I am attributing it to either:

A. The husband is slipping Vitamin P into my coffee every morning and I am none the wiser.
B. I am truly thankful for what I have and am simply exuding happiness.
C. I am a spoiled brat and having a larger house makes me giddy.

I wish I could say it was B, but I am pretty sure it is C. Awful huh? Either way, I absolutely love my new house and can't find a thing wrong with it. Plus it is situated right smack dab in Mayberry so there's that too.

My new Mayberry (or perhaps Stepford) house comes with a new Manny. As a wise woman once said, "your like the halfway house for divorced relatives." I have a new Manny. This manny has outside employment which is a real shame in the manny department but at least he's employed. I was joking that when I am done with him he'll be running marathons, in the Air Force and voting for Obama in 2012. I plan on piping NPR into his room to help with the brainwashing. Perhaps I have said too much...We love you new Manny. (and don't get all jealous old Manny we love you too.)




Monday, August 3, 2009

Sweet girl

And honey you should know
That I could never go on without you
Green eyes....

Happy Birthday 3rd sweet girl!

I love you

(thanks Coldplay for the words)