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 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.