It should suprise no one

This evening C "graduated" from preschool. Thankfully, the "graduation" was developmentally appropriate, which is why I so love this preschool. The children filed into the church, each class sang two songs, the children sang two songs all together, and they filed out again. But each and every child (well, except for the one little girl who saw her parents in the pew and decided to sit down with them instead of continuing down the aisle) thought it was the best. thing. ever.

And anyone who has met C will not be at all surprised to hear that he was the talk of the post-preschool graduation festivities. C was one of the first children down the aisle, biting his lip and looking not quite happy. But as soon as he saw us and got those five year old "Hi MOM! HI! HI DAD!" waves out of the way, he stood in his spot, and was even overheard telling the boys on either side of him that "I can't chat now, we need to be quiet." Unheard of I tell you.

Then, the music started. And all the entire audience heard was my son belting out the songs as loudly as he could. His (very off-key) voice was literally the only thing you could hear the entire concert. Well, that and A screaming "C! I see him! Hi C!" C was very serious and intent about the whole event, and I couldn't decide whether I should laugh or cry. So I did both.

Afterwards, it took us a good half-hour to make it out of the school as each parent and teacher had to stop us and comment on C's enthusiasm for the songs. The principal even stopped me as I was about to finally exit the building and said "I told you that there was always one child who entertained us each graduation, and I am not at all surprised that it was C. But at least this year we were entertained in a good way, as he was doing EXACTLY what we kept telling them to do, 'Sing loudly!'"

Happy graduation C, and may you find a calling in life that does not involve carrying a tune. I love you bud.

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?

For soon it will be Thanksgiving Day

The rapid approach of Thanksgiving means that one of my all time favorite preschool songs is being sung by my two favorite preschoolers. All the freaking time. But yet, I still love the song, and a friend even caught me singing it in the middle of the grocery store the other day. "What song?" those of you without small children might ask. "I didn't KNOW there were Thanksgiving songs!" Trust me, there are songs for every holiday known to man. I am just waiting until C comes home with one for Administrative Assistant day.

Anyway, without further ado, here are the words to my favorite Thanksgiving song, as best I can tell anyway.

Five little turkeys playing by the door. One ran away and then there were four.
Run turkey run turkey, run far away as soon it will be Thanksgiving Day!

Four little turkeys sitting by a tree. One ran away and then there were three.
Run turkey run turkey, run far away as soon it will be Thanksgiving Day!

Three little turkeys playing skip-to-my-lou. One ran away and then there were two.
Run turkey run turkey, run far away as soon it will be Thanksgiving Day!

Two little turkeys resting in the sun. One ran away and then there was one.
Run turkey run turkey, run far away as soon it will be Thanksgiving Day!

One little turkey, not having any fun. He ran away and then there were none.
Run turkey run turkey, run far away as soon it will be Thanksgiving Day!

Domestic Diva: Strike Three and You're Out

Tomorrow is C's preschool holiday party and I am in charge of "treats," which is a pretty broad term in my book. I much prefered the Thanksgiving party as I was in charge of "four apples, sliced in eighths and one bunch of grapes, sliced lengthwise." Nice and precise, no questions or concerns about what was expected of me. "Treats" on the other hand, could mean any number of things. Cupcakes (but maybe those are reserved for birthday celebrations only?) cookies (if so, how many per child?) brownies (not terrible festive, are they)...the list goes on and on forever. After some debate I settled on cookies. Festive, but not too much sugar or mess. Now the big question remained, do I bake them or buy them? After much internal struggle I decided that I would make gingerbread Christmas trees with C as he had so much fun making them when we had done them as a holiday activity over the weekend. I could perhaps regain some of the domestic diva points I had lost during the cookie exchange fiasco last week.

I rolled, C wielded the cookie cutter, and we baked. All was good in the land of domestic divadom. I didn't burn them, they all looked exactally the same cooling on the counter (as in a class of ten 2 and 1/2 year olds, all things must be EXACTALLY the same), and they actually tasted perfectly homemade.

As I was making dinner, however, I heard a crash, shatter, "mamaaaaaa." C has dragged his step stool over to the counter to inspect the cookies and accidentally knocked half of them onto the floor. I no longer had ten cookies that looked exactally the same, but rather seven cookies almost intact and several broken ones. I silently sighed while reassuring C that it was all OK, accidents happen, and we'll just think of something. He tearfully looked up at me and said "That's OK Mommy, you go buy more at the grocery store." No "we'll make some more, right?" or "you'll fix them, right?" but "you'll buy them." How sad is it that my son knew exactally what I was going to do, as at 8:45 at night I joined the line of other last minute mommies at the local grocery store casing the cookie display.

I think it might be time for me to scream uncle to the domestic diva gods. But for now I'm off to try to make pumpkin bread (from a mix) for C's teachers. Wish me luck....