QUESTION OF THE DAY
How prepared did you feel before your child started Kindergarten? Did you have a clue what was expected? Did your kindergarten communicate well?
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I was really looking forward to the “Early Childhood Back To School Night” at the boys’ school
I had already missed the Kindergarten registration open house in the Spring because of something I can’t remember now, and so was really looking forward to meeting A’s teacher and hearing her spiel about what to expect this coming year.
I didn’t go through school here and, although I don’t tend to ask questions, I like to hear other parents’ questions answered, because it gives me a clue about what to expect. Plus I was full of ideas about how I was going to be so much more outgoing this year and how I was going to approach other parents and be jolly and friendly and not wait until December to start striking up conversations. I was even going to start using people’s first names excessively when I talked to them, because I heard it makes people like you.
I reminded TheMan about ten times that he had to be home to come to this thing at 6 tonight.
Then I didnt’ feed the boys until 5.35 pm.
We were a little rushed, going in, but they made it.
Not knowing what to expect, we had decided to drag the children along and split up for the meet and greet bits for the two different classes: preschool and kindergarten.
Ours were the ONLY children in the hall over the age of nine months. How the hell did everyone else know the protocol and we didn’t? We checked the website. There was nothing. We called the school. No-one answered!) Naturally, our big boys were not about to sit quietly.
I heard (just about) the principal saying something about the preschool parents going that way, so I did. She didn’t mention Kindergarten, so I assumed they would stagger the presentations so that people with children both classes could get to both. I told TheMan he might as well take the rowdy boys home, since we weren’t going to hear anything anyway with them there.
I was already a bit jangly because I didn’t feel like I knew what was going on, or what I was supposed to do. Then I started the pre-school event really well by accusing one of the moms I knew from last year of being pregnant…and she wasn’t. AArgh! I felt horrible and we both blushed furiously and. Well. As I say. Not a good start.
So I sat down and listened to a presentation that I could have skipped, having been through pre-school last year. Eventually when they stopped talking I belted across the street to the main school…to find the Kindergarten classrooms dark and only a few parents hanging around.
Missed the presentation. Missed the teacher. Missed the whole damned thing.
I was mad. At them for no organising it better; at myself for not being smart enough to realize I should skip the pre-school thing (in my defense I wanted to go because it’s a different teacher and a different room); and mad at the world in general.
I was also upset. For all kinds of reasons.
For one thing, the school year seems like the perfect time to start afresh, to do things better, to be the perfect you. It’s like New Year’s Resolutions time. I had resolved to be totally on top of things this time, and here I am blotting my copybook before school even starts! I’m so mad. It’s like an ink stain on a brand new white t-shirt, right before you go out the door (and no, Alanis, that’s not ironic, just annoying).
I also felt foolish. Everyone else seemed to manage just fine. Why was I the only one running around like a headless chicken? Why was I the odd one out?
So I was too discombobulated to talk to any one at the pre-school meet-and-greet when I went back there, so I just bailed out and stomped up the road.
And here’s a word of advice to all husbands. When your wife comes in on the verge of tears, what she wants is someone to make sympathetic noises (”Oh, no! They didn’t? What? Unbelieveable!”) and to give her a big hug. She does not want you to tell her all the stuff she knows, rationally (or will in half an hour) about this really not being that big a deal. She knows it’s not. (Or she will, in half an hour when she’s had a chance to calm down or had a glass of wine. Half an hour unless you try to tell her it’s not that big a deal, in which case it will take three hours: two for her to stop being mad at them and another one for her to stop being mad at you).
[Men of the world: we do not want you to solve our problems. Except when we do. Which is NOT when we're still upset about them. Any other time, have at it. But if we're still all trembly-lipped, be the gay best friend. Good luck.]
Sigh.
Well, I thought to myself, it’s their Open House on Friday, where the boys get to go in and see their new classrooms. They each had a timed slot and guess what? They were at the same time again.
Let’s see, I thought as I finished a reviving glass of wine, if I can manage to split myself in two a little better on Friday.
QUESTION OF THE DAY
How prepared did you feel before your child started Kindergarten? Did you have a clue what was expected? Did your kindergarten communicate well?
[Comment, retweet or link from your blog for an entry into the current giveaway]
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