The day

*** I just realized this title might make people think this post is about THE DAY, the anniversary of 9/11. I could write a post about what I was doing on that day, but since I was a week overdue and out of my mind with anxiety about giving birth, having a second kid, and anything else I could think of, I really don’t have any poignant or deep thoughts to share from that day. At that time my thoughts revolved around ME, ME, ME, ME, ME, ME . . . and whether I would be able to get to the base hospital to deliver if I ever went into labor, which I probably wouldn’t because I was going to be pregnant forever. Much crying over my terrible plight . . . you get the picture. It wasn’t pretty. 

The big question everyone has is “what did you do all day while the kids were in school?” Sorry for the disappointment, but I didn’t have the day of luxury and pampering that everyone imagines. After getting home from checking on the boys, Josh went to go speak Arabic to people and I took the baby to the grocery store. Since we walked there and it was really hot and humid, by the time we arrived she was almost asleep. I grabbed only the essentials and went right home, hoping to get longer than a 20 minute stroller nap out of her. I honestly can’t remember the rest of the day until boys came home, but I was so tired I went to bed that night at 9:30. Since that only happens if I’m sick or pregnant (of which I am neither), I can add “not schooling my kids” as one of the most tiring things I’ve ever done.

And what did the boys think about school? Well, at dinner Carter was trying to figure out how many days of school he had left until we move. I was a little worried until I realized that he didn’t want to leave before the end of the year. Then he added, “And then I want Dad to work here for three more years so I can go to TAISM.” Something he didn’t love was the homework he was assigned. One of the reasons I like TAISM is because they assign minimal homework. Well in Carter’s world, anything more than “nothing” is too much. He made a big fat flopping deal over his two pages of math (one of which had only 4 problems), but in the end he finished it saying, “I really like school because you are doing things all day that don’t feel like school, but I hate homework.”

The other two boys had great days too. Over dinner they were all sharing stories and telling about the different classes they had (music, art, PE, Arabic, etc). Calvin told us his language arts teacher read a passage “from this weird book, something about a ghost and a booth of some kind” (hmm, I’m guessing that was The Phantom Tollbooth?) and his other exciting news was that he can order cappuccinos from the cafeteria and Dairy Queen blizzards at lunch on Sundays and Mondays if he wants since he’s in Middle School. He was pretty surprised to find out that we had already tested the coffee bar and found it worthy. Coffee and ice cream – that’s my boy, getting his priorities straight.

Every single story Caleb told related to recess or PE. No matter what question we asked, it always came back to that. He even got up and demonstrated something that looked like the chicken dance. I don’t know if that was a game they played or a stretching exercise they did, but he thought it was worth sharing. I have no idea if they did any reading or math, but I did find out he ate his granola bar at snack time before first recess.

We dissected Carter’s day the most closely, trying to get an idea if he had any :cough: deficiencies. :cough: Classic Carter — he pocketed the rial I left for him, but didn’t bother to read the note. He just stuck it back in his locker. He also said they had a group brainstorming project where they had to write six ideas down and they could do it in groups of two or three. He said he found a group of three so he only had to write two things. They were assigned a word search and after they found all ten words they had to use at least four of them in a sentence. He said some kids used six or eight words. We asked him how many he did. With a sly smile he replied, “Four.” God bless and help Ms. F.

As far as being easier or more relaxing than homeschooling? Yes and no. While they were gone mid-day it was easier, but morning and evening were harder. It seemed like all their neediness and questions were compressed into four hours instead of across the entire day. The evening was jam-packed with sorting through paperwork, figuring out which kid needed to wear a PE uniform tomorrow, which kid has homework to sign and return, scrounging money for lunch tomorrow (it’s Pizza Day – they bring in Papa John’s), trying to dodge Caleb’s incessant kisses (the first 25 were fine, but then he started hanging on my neck and practically giving me a hickey), and making sure we finished it all in time to go to bed early enough to get enough rest to do it all over again tomorrow.

Annnd . . . they’re off!

Last night clothes were laid out, alarms were set, and lunches were packed. You know how I said I briefly (like for 2 seconds, and only in my head) considered making Lucy the morning mom? Before bed Carter came and gave me an extra hug and kiss:
“In case I don’t see you in the morning.”
Me: “Why would you not see me in the morning?”
Carter: “I thought you might sleep in.”

Mother of the Year here, people. Mother of the YEAR.

But guess who didn’t sleep in this morning — this guy! He was the first one ready, dressed, hair brushed, breakfast eaten and waiting by the door. I guess he decided school wasn’t such a horrible place after all.
It was 90 something degrees and sweatier than a greenhouse inside a sauna. I have no idea why Calvin is wearing jeans. 

Our neighbors also have 3 kids going to the same school. Between us we have two 7th graders, a 5th, 4th and 2nd grader, and a Kindergartner. I’m hoping that gives us a better chance of actually catching the bus. Rumor has it that if you aren’t waiting outside they will leave without honking or ringing the doorbell. That reminds me of my high school days having to use A/C Transit — except the bus drivers would see us waiting and drive right by without stopping. 

Playing around while waiting for the bus. It’s probably the only day all year that we’ll be ready before the bus arrives at 7:45ish

It’s here! The bus is a lot older than I expected from some of the other buses I’ve seen at the school. I wasn’t even sure it was the right bus until I saw some other kids wearing the same uniform shirts already on board.

The bus attendant is the woman behind Caleb in the abaya. She makes sure the kids are behaving themselves while the driver concentrates on driving. Josh had to remind Caleb this morning that the person driving the bus was not called the bus boy.

He may be in middle school, but he still stopped and smiled for the camera.

After the bus left, Josh and I finished eating breakfast and then headed over to school. I wasn’t worried about them, but this was my first day of school too and I didn’t want to miss it. I could have driven them today (like many of the parents do on the first day), but I wanted them to get all the newness and nervousness out of the way at once.

I don’t have a good picture of the school because every time I try and take one, the white building blends into the white desert sand — but it’s beautiful and new looking.

We first stopped by Caleb’s class. His teacher is on the right and Caleb’s head is peeking over the edge of the couch behind her.

The bell hadn’t even rung yet and he’s already got friends. (And he was thrilled to finally meet the real life Howie). The kid in the middle was reading a story to them.

Next we went by Carter’s class. I told him I wouldn’t embarrass him by waving, but in my super-spy way I snapped this picture from outside the door.

Then he looked up and saw me. Yes, yes, I’m leaving. School hasn’t even officially started yet. I left him a rial in his locker to make up for the fly-by. On certain days each week they have Dairy Queen blizzards so he’s going to want to have ice cream money on him at all times. Then Josh and I went by the cafeteria and ordered cappuccinos before walking upstairs to check out the middle school.

Aside from me walking into a wall in my care not to be seen by anyone in first period science, all was fine on the second floor. Calvin and his friend from next door were in class together and they looked like they were busy meeting everyone.

I knew they’d be fine, but it was fun to see it with my own eyes. One day down, many more to go . . .

Dear Teacher,

Yes, I know my son writes like a 3rd grader. That’s completely my fault. Really, genetically my fault. I had almost perfect grades throughout elementary school, except for those persistent S’s and even a few Ns in handwriting (C and D equivalent). I never realized how illegible it was until I was browsing through some old Father’s Day cards that I had sent my dad over the years. I picked one up thinking it was from when I was in elementary school . . . only to read, “Thanks for all the help with college stuff.” Oops. So, yeah. I promise we’ve worked on it (a lot), but he got the short end of the stick in the handwriting department. In spite of the messy papers he’ll hand in, he’s really bright, loves to read, and is an enthusiastic student who wants to please you. You’ll love him.

Fourth grade teacher? You are so lucky that my son started reading in the last 6 months. You don’t even know what a bullet you dodged there. He may still put you to sleep with the monotone and stilted voice he uses to read out loud, but at least he no longer sees the first few letters of a word and guesses. I’m hoping you can get him to love reading, cause so far I’ve struck out. He’ll do it as a chore, but he’d rather play Legos all day long than pick up a book. He’s actually a natural at math, but his squirreliness gets in the way of his brightness at times. He’s certainly not your traditional excellent student, because he doesn’t care about being perfect. He’d rather plow through and get on to having fun. I hope you like that about him. It’s nice to have him around to balance out those neurotic perfectionist types. 

Yes, my son is loud. He has two older brothers to compete with for attention — he didn’t get the nickname “Loudy McLoudsAlot” for nothing. If he’s enjoying himself, you will know it. We put him in second grade because he’s tall for his age, but with his July birthday he’s probably the youngest student in your class. He’s still a beginning reader — partly because he’s young, partly because we spent the year roaming around the world, and partly because he was working through a beginning reading program that has been missing since we moved here. Ironically, I found it tonight. He loves books, is excited about reading, and has good phonemic awareness so I’m expecting things to click for him this year. Don’t worry about him needing speech therapy. He doesn’t actually have a lisp. He listens to the Ramona Quimby audiobooks every night and copies her speech patterns. He was ridiculously excited to see that there was a Howie in your class. I apologize in advance if he wants to call him “Howie Kemp” like in Ramona the Pest. As you’ll see, he is funny (sometimes to a fault), enthusiastic, and a people person. If you can keep him on task, he’ll be an excellent student.

I hope you have a wonderful year (and that I didn’t screw it up too badly).

registration day

We went and registered our scraggly looking bunch of boys for school today. Calvin got a major haircut, but his hair is still in his eyes, Carter wants long hair so he came home from his haircut with an almost invisible trim to his mop, and Caleb? No complaints about him.

I’ve been a little worried lately because Carter keeps saying that he’s not going to school. And not in the joking way either. I asked him if he wanted to take the bus or have me drive him on the first day and he replied, “I’ll be sleeping in cause I’m not going.” He said he would go to registration, but then not show up for the entire year. As we know from the time he attacked the elevator, when Carter gets nervous he expresses his fear via anger or defiance. I’ve been having visions of having to carry him into school with him resisting by grabbing and clinging to the doorway with all his might.

Meanwhile, this guy is so over the moon exited about going to school that he wore his uniform this morning even though he didn’t have to. He also dug out “real” shoes that he hasn’t worn since March when we left Monterey. This is out in front of the school.

Waiting to find out class assignments. This pretty much sums up their personalities/feelings about the day. Calvin is interested, but acting like he’s too cool for school, Caleb eagerly anticipating the news, and Carter, the unwilling participant.
Registration was easy since the boys had already been admitted and the US Government had already paid the ridiculously expensive tuition bill (I wish they were that timely on the piddly amount of money they owe us, but  I’m glad they at least got the school paid on time). For the three of them to attend for the year it costs eighty-six thousand dollars. I know, I choked on my coffee when I heard that number too. For one year. Talk about extravagance. 
And what do we get for that price? Amazing service and attention. Many of the staff members and teachers remembered us from when we met them on our school tour at the end of last year, the elementary school principal was helping to staff the table where they were handing out classroom assignments, making sure he met all the students personally, the middle school principal was handing out class schedules and teaching the kids how to use the daily planner and explaining the block schedule rotation. Calvin didn’t have a foreign language selected yet and the principal asked, “do you want to take Spanish, French, or Arabic?” When Calvin replied, “Spanish” the principal said off the top of his head, “OK. You’ll be with Mr ___ in room 207” and just penciled it in, he didn’t have to check a schedule, a roster, or a computer. 
Then we went to meet the teachers. They had several returning students acting as guides so we told them which classrooms the boys were in and they showed us the way. When Caleb walked in the door of his class, his teacher said, “I remember when you visited my class last year. When you said you were going to be in second grade I was hoping you’d be in my class this year. I’m so happy that I get to be your teacher.” Caleb was beaming. We’ve heard great things about his teacher from many of the other parents and combined with Caleb’s excitement and enthusiasm, I think it will be a winning combination. 
Next for the wild card: Carter and his teacher. We were hoping for a particular teacher, but Carter was assigned to a new teacher. She’s from Scotland, early thirties (or maybe younger — the older I get, the worse I get at this age guessing thing) and a blend of warm, gentle, enthusiastic, and flexible. She looks to be a perfect match for my reluctant student. After we left her class Carter visibly perked up and started leading the way around the halls instead of dragging along behind. In the car on the way home he said, “I feel . . . I don’t know how I feel. Just better.” So it looks like I won’t have to drag him to school in his pjs after all. 
Then Calvin took his schedule and found his locker (the middle school and high school are upstairs) and wandered around and found each of his classes. He saw some girls he was friends with from Kid Games (church camp) and he took off with them for a while. They took ID card pictures and we bought PE uniforms for everyone. Altogether it was a very successful day. Can’t wait for Saturday!

crack o’ dawn

Today is the first day of our training program to conform to the schedule of the institution known as school. One of my favorite things about homeschooling and what kept me going even when other parts were tedious was the luxury of sleeping in. None of this getting up while it was still dark to get ready for the bus – I would smile sleepily from under the covers as I heard the slapping of sneakers on pavement as kids ran past our house to beat the 8am bell. 

Until now. A week from this moment my three will have their happy behinds in real chairs at real desks (or maybe they’ll be at lunch on an actual playground) and I will be wondering what to do with all this extra time that life has handed me for the next few months. I’m sure I’ll be rubbing my bleary eyes wondering why the day feels so long when it’s only 11 am and debating whether it counts as napping if I go back to sleep after the bus leaves.

Since we’re easing into things we got up at 7am. Except I really need to ease into the easing into part too, so I woke up at 7, but didn’t open my eyes until 7:20. Then I pulled my netbook into bed and checked my email/facebook/bank account/entertainment news. You know, all the important stuff. Finally, I got up and staggered into the shower and then sat around in a fog for the next two hours, wondering how normal people do this before 10am every day.

I briefly considered having Lucy be the “morning mom” and embracing the role of “nighttime mom,” but that would certainly add years to the amount of therapy they’re already going to need, so I’ll probably end up being the morning figurehead while Lucy does the heavy lifting. Just call me the Queen of England, backed by a Parliament of one.

After we were all up and dressed and fed (I made breakfast the night before – baked French Toast with caramel made from scratch. See? All my best work happens at night) we sat around yawning at each other with nothing to do and no motivation to do it. Good thing we have six more days to practice.