A Retraction

Do you remember that post I wrote at the beginning of the summer about over-programmed children? Ahem. Yeah. About that. It seems that in an effort to spare us the disaster that was our under-programmed summer, I might have gone JUST A TINY bit overboard in the scheduling department this fall.

C has kindergarten every morning, and then is doing an extended day program back at his preschool two afternoons a week to try and get him ready for the rather shocking ramp up to a full day first grade. A has preschool three afternoons a week (two of which overlap with C's long days). Then the kids are doing swimming (because I still insist that everyone must swim, well, as early as possible), gymnastics, and tennis. At least tennis will be over by mid-October. Then A is ALSO taking ballet one morning, and C is begging to do an indoor t-ball league on Saturdays. Can you say "What the frick were you thinking?" all together? I am going to be THAT mom that I complained about in May. Seriously.

In my defense, the kids love each and every activity that they are doing. Well, except maybe for ballet because A has never tried it before, but she is in love with the IDEA of ballet and spends hours a day PLAYING ballet. Quite honestly, it is my fervent hope that eight weeks into ballet she decides that she hates it and we can move on. But still. I have a feeling that come November I might be reconsidering my stance on the necessity of swim lessons...

When Bribery Fails

We've been having sleep issues here at Chez J-E. I know, shocker, isn't it? Neither C nor A likes to go to sleep before the sun, and yet they also insist on waking up WITH the sun. Leading to very. tired. children. Controlling their wake up times has never worked well for us, so in an attempt to get them to sleep, or at least stay quietly in their rooms at bedtime, I resorted to bribery. If they stayed in bed for five nights, A got a (very cheap) princess watch and C got a new maze book. If, after the initial toy was given, they had a "bad" night, they new toy went away for a day. The first night C went happily to bed dreaming of hours of mazes, and A screamed her head off because she wanted the watch NOW, not five days from now.

Tonight, C appeared in the family room about 20 minutes after I tucked him in sobbing "I don't want the new maze book. I want things the way they used to be. I like getting out of bed and coming to see you better than I like mazes." What could I do except shrug and admit defeat? And thus ends my experiment with bribery. Clearly, not the technique for us.

Two Firsts

Today, C finally learned to pump properly while swinging. And, today he came home from school crying for the first time because three little girls in his class had called him a loser. Two major milestones in one day, both announcing in totally different ways that my son is growing up.

The pumping I could handle. That only required cheering and encouragement on my part along with lots of hugs and high fives when he finally disembarked from the swing 20 minutes after getting onto it. The name calling bit, however, was a little out of my league.

When he could finally get out why he was crying, I stalled by asking "And what did you do?" Hoping that he would have miraculously discovered the solution all by himself. The answer, however, was "I hid under the slide until recess was over." Apparently, the teachers overheard the comments, and took the girls aside and spoke to them, which had slightly mollified C, but he was so afraid of getting his feelings hurt again that he decided to stay hidden until it was time to go home.

My initial reaction was to get on the phone to the two moms and give them a piece of my mind about the behavior of their offspring, but quickly decided that it was not in fact the right way to go about this. Instead, I spoke with C about how words can hurt as much as fists, and how it was OK to feel sad about the incident. We practiced telling any future offenders not to call him a loser, and how to tell them that they hurt his feelings. We discussed how just because other children were calling names did not mean that it was OK to do it, and how people who call you names are not really good friends.

C perked up considerably after I "gave him permission" to not play with the girls if he didn't want to, he seemed to think that just because they usually played together that it meant they had to do so for life, even if they were being mean to him. And he is pondering whether he is going to give them another chance if the apologize to him. My guess is that the girls have forgotten all about the incident, so he will be waiting an awful long time for the apology, but the exercise is probably useful. I, however, will have to restrain myself from giving the girls an ominous look tomorrow morning. Because no one should call my fabulous little boy a loser.

The Diary of a Phone Chain

8:15 pm: Huh, it is actually snowing a little. Yeah! I don't have to clean for playgroup in the morning. I can curl up and work on my knitting instead of mopping the kitchen floor.

10:07 pm: Wait, if there isn't school, how will I know?

10:08 pm: Phone chain! I remember now, there is a phone chain!

10:09 pm: Where is the phone chain?

10:15 pm: Ah, the phone chain. Who do I have to call?

10:16 pm: Who IS that person? Is her child actually in C's class? Where is the class list?

10:18 pm: Ah ha! The class list. Huh. This is the class list from last year.

10:20 pm: Ah ha! The real class list. Why was I looking for this? Right! Who's mom am I calling? Now where did I put the phone chain?

10:21 pm: There is the phone chain...I should really file this stuff somehow...huh. I thought her name was Jane. Man, I hope I haven't called her Jane to her face. Why did I think her name was Jane?

10:22 pm: It doesn't seem to be snowing that much. I bet we will have school. I guess I should go to bed.

10:23 pm: I should bring the phone chain upstairs just in case.

10:25 pm: Where is the upstairs phone? Oh God, in A's room.

10:26 pm: Phew! Phone and phone chain on my bedside table. I didn't even wake A up.

10:28 pm: Damn, I missed the weather. Oh well. Clearly, there will be school. Just look at it outside. Barely any snow.

1:17 am: Have to pee. Is there much snow yet? Nope. I guess I need to dig out the juice boxes for the party in the morning. Gee, I hope I have enough. Gah, I never mopped the floor for playgroup.

5:28 am: "Mommy! I had a nightmare that the Valentine's party was canceled because of the snow!" "Don't worry, look out the window, no snow. Go back to sleep."

5:53am: Is that the phone? Where is the phone? Why is it ringing? Who is calling at this hour? "Hello? Really? But there is no snow! Ice, huh? OK. Bye."

5:53 am "MOMMMMYYYYYY! BUT WHAT ABOUT THE PARTY?????"

5:55 am: Wait, I'm the coordinator? What does that mean? Am I supposed to call everyone under me? It says I have to call everyone under me. But the woman who called me said to just call the next person on the list. Why is this so complicated? It's a freaking preschool phone chain. What happened to waking up and watching the news?

5:57am: "Hi, this is Chichimama from preschool. Yes, I know it is early, but they told me to call. OK, bye."

5:58 am: Crap. I didn't say anything about calling the next person on the list. And the list says I am supposed to call everyone, so I should really call the next person.

5:59 am: Well, I'm not calling anyone else this early. I'll go back to bed an call at a more respectable hour.

6:03 am: I can't sleep. What if I oversleep and someone heads off to school and gets into an accident and it is all my fault? I should get out of bed and start calling.

6:05 am: But is is only 6:05 am. No one on that list is up at this hour. Even my kids are still sleeping.

6:11 am: I am never going to be able to sleep unless I call. I'm just going to call. I was called before 6 am, this is so not my fault.

6:15 am: "Hi, this is Chichimama from preschool. Yes, I know it is early, but they told me to call. OK, bye."

6:16 am: Damn it, I forgot to tell her to call the next person on the list. I'll just keep calling.

6:17 am: "Hi, this is Chichimama from preschool. Yes, I know it is early, but they told me to call. OK, bye."

6:18 am: "Hi, this is Chichimama from preschool. Yes, I know it is early, but they told me to call. OK, bye."

6:19 am: "Hi, this is Chichimama from preschool. Yes, I know it is early, but they told me to call. OK, bye."

6:20 am: I should really mention to someone at school that they could start the phone tree at a more respectable hour. "Hi, this is Chichimama from preschool. Yes, I know it is early, but they told me to call. OK, bye."

6:21 am: Phew. All calls made. NOW I can go to sleep.

6:22 am: "MOMMY! MOMMY! BUT WHAT ABOUT MY PARTY?????"

6:28 am: Next year, I have to remember to put my name at the VERY LAST SLOT on the list.

Decisions, Decisions

As part of the school registration process for next year I have to select whether my kids will be attending morning or afternoon sessions (yes, we have a half-day kindergarten program). My ideal? Both kids in the morning. Morning school makes sense. We get up, we get dressed, we have breakfast, we make beds and off we go. We come back, it is lunch time and half the day is nicely accounted for. Unfortunately, the drop-off and pick-up times for kindergarten and the preschool in which C is currently enrolled are within five minutes of each other, and there is no busing available. Meaning that either I need to switch preschools, I need to place them both in the afternoons when the pick up times are staggered a bit better, or one child needs to go in the morning and one in the afternoon.

Switching preschools would make the most sense, except for the fact that this preschool is everything I always wanted in a preschool. The children play with sand and water. There is lots of art. They sing appropriate seasonal songs (played on RECORD PLAYERS people), paint rocks, and make a turkey centerpiece for Thanksgiving. There is no formal curriculum. There is no expectation that children will know how to read by the end of the pre-K program. The highlight of the year? A parent-organized Spring Carnival that involves games like blowing ducks across a wading pool using straws and playing hopscotch. Really.

I just. can't. leave this school. I just can't. So the next logical solution? Put both kids in the afternoon. I would get three afternoons a week to do whatever. Go to the gym. Take a nap. Gasp, read a book. But....C is not a great morning person. Oh, he is up bright and early, but trying to get him out of pajamas and into the car? Painful. Very, very painful. And I fear that our combined laziness would mean that if we had no place to go until 12:30, that we would be racing around at 12:25 trying to get dressed. Which is fine for next year, but would make the 8:25 am start in 1st grade a living hell. In fact, I am somewhat fearful that we might never recover from a year of afternoon school.

My final option is putting C in morning kindergarten, and A in afternoon preschool. Which, while fine and lovely for them, leaves not a second in any day that belongs to me. AND puts me in the car four freaking times a day. Because C will not be attending our neighborhood school that is two blocks away. No, he will most likely be attending kindergarten on the other side of town because of a nightmare of a redistricting situation.

So what do I do folks? What do I do?

Questions and more questions

Today is supposedly the first day back to school for C. But I am still in my pajamas, and so are the kids, and it is not because preschool is closed for the national day of mourning. No, C's fever came back yesterday morning, and he literally spent the day in bed. Sigh.

Besides the "what REALLY constitutes a fever" thing, this raises an interesting dilemma, the mommy disclosure. Do I call every parent at the party and inform them that my son has a random fever and no other symptoms? I mean, if he had something requiring antibiotics, sure, I would call. But random viral something or other? Not so sure. And the whole "fever free for 24 hours" thing, is a fever of 99.5 at 7am REALLY a fever worthy of keeping him home again tomorrow, assuming it doesn't get any higher by tonight? And can I take him out in the world, say to the yarn store to replace the non-washable baby yarn? Or to Target to get tissues for the sinus impaired in the house? Inquiring minds want to know these things.