Well, Colin's start to school has been less than stellar. I'm surprised I even feel this way after being so confident he would absolutely love going, and that he would be absolutely ready.
First and most concerning, I have encountered some serious safety issues at the school. The first day I dropped Colin off I found four kindergarten kids who had been left in the school yard, after all the teachers and kids had gone inside. Two were near tears, and two were running around near the busy road. I took the initiative, gathered them up and took them into the school. Even more concerning, they were kids from Colin's class, meaning it was Colin's teacher who had missed her head count and left them behind. Then, this past Monday, the teacher lost Colin. James was a few minutes late arriving to pick Colin up, and when he arrived Colin was nowhere to be found. After 20 frantic minutes of the teacher, the principal and James searching the school and the grounds, they eventually found him. All we could get from Colin was that when Colin didn't see me at pickup time, he figured he would just walk home. The teacher didn't notice he had wandered off. I was surprised at how calm I was at the whole experience: I think it was a combination of knowing that a) Colin is capable enough to actually walk home on his own and would adhere to all our safety rules and b) the teacher was likely in as much of a panic as I would have been.
Second, Colin isn't enjoying going at all. He absolutely loved his preschool last year, but this year all he says about his days is that it's boring. Other than the story the teacher reads each day (which he then recites verbatim to me when he gets home), he doesn't talk about anything he is doing there. Every day he has to go, he tells me he's had enough.
Third is the ongoing exhaustion of it all for him. He continues to fall asleep every day at school (no, there is no designated rest time - he just opts out of an activity and falls asleep instead!) Once on the playground, once on the carpet in the classroom, once under his table.
Fourth, we've encountered the inevitable teasing that comes along with growing up. I know I won't be able to protect my little boy from all the heartache he will encounter in the world, but I feel like I want to shield him just a little longer.
Fifth, I don't think Colin's teacher is a good match for him. She seems to be very laid-back, whereas Colin craves structure and organization. I think his dislike of class and his some of his disruptive behaviour is a result of undefined rules and laissez-faire teaching styles. Not that anything is wrong with the teacher's method, it's just that it's not a good fit for Colin. His preschool teachers were extremely surprised to hear about Colin's attitude at and toward school - it is nothing like their experience with him last year, where he absolutely thrived in the "school" environment.
All this has made got me thinking about homeschooling again. If I weren't so ill and exhausted with this pregnancy, I might give it a go. I admit I feel slightly guilty about sending Colin to school so that I can get a bit of a rest, but really it is the best answer for us right now. Caleb is down to 8 or 9 hours a night and is starting to give up his naps, which means I'm not getting near the amount of sleep I need to sustain my own health. Add to that the return of the nausea and overall weakness - I'm not like I was at the beginning of the pregnancy, but I can feel myself on a slow downward slide again.
And so, at least until Christmas, I think we'll have to stick it out with school. For the life of me I can't remember a thing about my own kindergarten experience; my memories begin in earnest at grade one. So hopefully we can see how this year goes and see if Colin eventually settles into the routine of it all. What I love most is that I feel like I always have options - no decision ever has to be permanent. And so the ever-vigilant mother stands her post...
Friday, 25 September 2009
Monday, 21 September 2009
Calebites
Caleb is growing and changing every day. I absolutely love this age.
His vocabulary grows in leaps and bounds. Just like Colin, he spoke his first word around 18 months. And, just like Colin, as soon as that first word was out a fountain burst forth, as though a deep sea of words had been collecting beneath the surface and was only waiting for the geyser to erupt above the surface. Every new word he hears he immediately repeats, adds to his vocabulary and uses on a regular basis. I, of course, am his sole translator; pronounciation of sounds will develop over the next year or so, but I am generally able to understand based on the context of the conversation, and closely following his train of thought. He is also moving right into stringing words together, to combine a person with an action, to relate multiple thoughts, or to tell a brief story: "Mommy sleeping...wake up...eat cereal." or "Daddy working...come home soon...go to park."
The one thing that isn't changing is his lack of sleep. His afternoon naps measure around an hour and a half to two hours, but at night he still needs no more than about 8 1/2 to 9 hours. He wakes usually between 5:30am and 6:30am, ready and rearing to go. "Mommy" is the first word out of his mouth, summoning me to his room. "Cereal" is without fail the second. Just like his mother, he likes to eat first thing. The nice thing is that he doesn't seem to be suffering because of the short sleep he gets; on the contrary - he wakes in a happy demeanor and gets right into his day. It is myself who is desperately looking for ways to prolong his sleeping hours; if I want to get the eight hours I need, it means going to bed almost as soon as he does. This proves difficult if I want to get something done after he is in bed, or spend time with James or on my own. It also means that we spend every waking minute together (because by the time naptime comes, I am in desperate need also!). I love my boy to the ends of the earth, but there are times I need some solitude. I have tried moving his bedtime around, to no avail. The suggestion of ridding him of the afternoon nap is also a fruitless one - he is so tired by noon (having already been awake 7 hours) that he actually asks for his nap, and will put himself to bed if I don't comply right away!
He is still in the "copying everything Colin does" mode. Half the time this leads to hilarious romps around the house between the two of them; half the time Colin is thoroughly put out.
Caleb still loves to help me cook. As soon as he hears me rustling in the kitchen, he races for a kitchen table chair, pulls it over to the counter and climbs up with the pronouncement "I watch." Luckily he is very patient in this activity, and although he wants to help out also, he is very willing to wait until it is his turn.
Last item - Caleb has entered the "why?" phase. Colin never went through this, so it's a new game for me. I'm managing to stick to my guns about always answering the "why", and not just with "because." Two things make this really easy: the first is that although there is never just one "why," Caleb is never asking it as a game. He genuinely wants to know why. If I think my answers through enough, I can usually bring the conversation to a close with a well-thought out reply that truly answers his line of thought. The second thing that makes it easy is that he has developed this Transylvanian-like accent that actually sounds like: "Vye?" So cute, so irresistible.
His vocabulary grows in leaps and bounds. Just like Colin, he spoke his first word around 18 months. And, just like Colin, as soon as that first word was out a fountain burst forth, as though a deep sea of words had been collecting beneath the surface and was only waiting for the geyser to erupt above the surface. Every new word he hears he immediately repeats, adds to his vocabulary and uses on a regular basis. I, of course, am his sole translator; pronounciation of sounds will develop over the next year or so, but I am generally able to understand based on the context of the conversation, and closely following his train of thought. He is also moving right into stringing words together, to combine a person with an action, to relate multiple thoughts, or to tell a brief story: "Mommy sleeping...wake up...eat cereal." or "Daddy working...come home soon...go to park."
The one thing that isn't changing is his lack of sleep. His afternoon naps measure around an hour and a half to two hours, but at night he still needs no more than about 8 1/2 to 9 hours. He wakes usually between 5:30am and 6:30am, ready and rearing to go. "Mommy" is the first word out of his mouth, summoning me to his room. "Cereal" is without fail the second. Just like his mother, he likes to eat first thing. The nice thing is that he doesn't seem to be suffering because of the short sleep he gets; on the contrary - he wakes in a happy demeanor and gets right into his day. It is myself who is desperately looking for ways to prolong his sleeping hours; if I want to get the eight hours I need, it means going to bed almost as soon as he does. This proves difficult if I want to get something done after he is in bed, or spend time with James or on my own. It also means that we spend every waking minute together (because by the time naptime comes, I am in desperate need also!). I love my boy to the ends of the earth, but there are times I need some solitude. I have tried moving his bedtime around, to no avail. The suggestion of ridding him of the afternoon nap is also a fruitless one - he is so tired by noon (having already been awake 7 hours) that he actually asks for his nap, and will put himself to bed if I don't comply right away!
He is still in the "copying everything Colin does" mode. Half the time this leads to hilarious romps around the house between the two of them; half the time Colin is thoroughly put out.
Caleb still loves to help me cook. As soon as he hears me rustling in the kitchen, he races for a kitchen table chair, pulls it over to the counter and climbs up with the pronouncement "I watch." Luckily he is very patient in this activity, and although he wants to help out also, he is very willing to wait until it is his turn.
Last item - Caleb has entered the "why?" phase. Colin never went through this, so it's a new game for me. I'm managing to stick to my guns about always answering the "why", and not just with "because." Two things make this really easy: the first is that although there is never just one "why," Caleb is never asking it as a game. He genuinely wants to know why. If I think my answers through enough, I can usually bring the conversation to a close with a well-thought out reply that truly answers his line of thought. The second thing that makes it easy is that he has developed this Transylvanian-like accent that actually sounds like: "Vye?" So cute, so irresistible.
Friday, 18 September 2009
Tuckered out
So it turns out that a whole day at school seems to be a little too much for my little guy. On Wednesday the teacher mentioned that when she went out to collect the kids after lunch recess, Colin was lying face down on the grass, dozing. He pronounced himself "too tired" for any more kindergarten that day. Luckily the teacher encouraged him enough to come inside and not only did he finish the day out, but he pulled his brother in the wagon the entire walk home from school.
So even moving bedtime to 7pm for Colin (a feat in this house, where we can't let Caleb go to sleep any earlier than 8pm) and letting him get at least 12 hours of sleep at night doesn't seem to be enough yet. I really thought he might nap more regularly on his days off, but he hasn't taken to that, either. I'm hoping that after a couple of weeks he will settle into a routine and either find more energy or succumb to the afternoon nap (I wish!)
There was no question in our mind if Colin was socially and intellectually ready to start school this year. Being born in December, I always kept it in mind that it would be easy enough to wait until next year for him to start. What I have noticed, however, is that there are some areas now evident in which his young age is showing in a classroom with children nearly two years older than he is. Exhaustion and energy levels is definitely one, toilet training another. A third I have realized is being emotionally ready, being in a classroom of 20 children and needing to operate on his own to a certain extent. This will definitely take some time for him to adjust to, but I hope that the independence we have fostered in him will kick in and ease this transition a little more.
So even moving bedtime to 7pm for Colin (a feat in this house, where we can't let Caleb go to sleep any earlier than 8pm) and letting him get at least 12 hours of sleep at night doesn't seem to be enough yet. I really thought he might nap more regularly on his days off, but he hasn't taken to that, either. I'm hoping that after a couple of weeks he will settle into a routine and either find more energy or succumb to the afternoon nap (I wish!)
There was no question in our mind if Colin was socially and intellectually ready to start school this year. Being born in December, I always kept it in mind that it would be easy enough to wait until next year for him to start. What I have noticed, however, is that there are some areas now evident in which his young age is showing in a classroom with children nearly two years older than he is. Exhaustion and energy levels is definitely one, toilet training another. A third I have realized is being emotionally ready, being in a classroom of 20 children and needing to operate on his own to a certain extent. This will definitely take some time for him to adjust to, but I hope that the independence we have fostered in him will kick in and ease this transition a little more.
Wednesday, 16 September 2009
Thank goodness for breathing room
Many people (friends, family, acquaintances, and even those I don't hardly know) have found themselves at the other end of my tirade about the start of Colin's school year over the past few days. For this, I sincerely apologize. I have started to see some of the not so positive aspects of public schooling, and even reconsidered (for a brief moment) the idea of homeschooling. But in the end, a little time, a little breathing room and a whole lotta prayer have seen everything work out just fine.
It's a long story, and one I'm not going to record in detail, because I'd rather just bury the whole thing and move on. Suffice it to say that I have some interesting run-ins with the school administration that made me realize the golden truth behind my mother's wise words: I am the only one who will be advocating for my child. I was loaded with a little guilt at wondering if I'm just becoming "one of those parents" who is always complaining about one thing or another and seeking special treatment for my child. Luckily I was reassured by those I spoke with that the issue at hand was indeed important enough to be addressed.
I learned two important lessons after this whole debacle. The first is to trust that "all things work together for good to them that love God," and the second is to always take time to calm down, process, ponder and consider a situation before running in head first.
I was speaking with a good friend on the weekend who found herself in a hard situation regarding her son's school start. I hadn't had any issues at this point, but as we spoke on the phone I counseled her to remember that it was important to believe that everything would work out as it needed to, and her son would find himself in the place he needed to be. Little did I know that two days later I would find myself in the exact same position! It did me much good as that phone conversation came flooding back, and amid my confusion and anger I heard my own words echoing clearly in my mind: everything will work out as it should.
It was a phone message yesterday that sent me spiraling, and when my phone messages went unreturned, I could feel the frustration rising higher and faster within me. But in the end I was grateful to have missed the phone call (I just didn't move fast enough to pick it up!) and also to have not had my own calls returned; it allowed me to really think through the possibilities presented, consider the positives and negatives of each decision (yes, I even made a list!), ponder, pray and read from God's word in search of guidance, and take the next 24 hours to really think about all the angles of the situation, instead of jumping in with an instinctual answer.
And so, all's well that ends well. In the end, the situation resolved itself even without the "meeting" this morning I prepared myself for. I had a whole list of well-thought out points to discuss, and when I arrived they simply said to ignore the phone message, all would be left as is. So although it might appear to have been a fruitless exercise in frustration for me, I have learned two important lessons that otherwise might have eluded me. Life lessons are always learned in the tough times, aren't they?
It's a long story, and one I'm not going to record in detail, because I'd rather just bury the whole thing and move on. Suffice it to say that I have some interesting run-ins with the school administration that made me realize the golden truth behind my mother's wise words: I am the only one who will be advocating for my child. I was loaded with a little guilt at wondering if I'm just becoming "one of those parents" who is always complaining about one thing or another and seeking special treatment for my child. Luckily I was reassured by those I spoke with that the issue at hand was indeed important enough to be addressed.
I learned two important lessons after this whole debacle. The first is to trust that "all things work together for good to them that love God," and the second is to always take time to calm down, process, ponder and consider a situation before running in head first.
I was speaking with a good friend on the weekend who found herself in a hard situation regarding her son's school start. I hadn't had any issues at this point, but as we spoke on the phone I counseled her to remember that it was important to believe that everything would work out as it needed to, and her son would find himself in the place he needed to be. Little did I know that two days later I would find myself in the exact same position! It did me much good as that phone conversation came flooding back, and amid my confusion and anger I heard my own words echoing clearly in my mind: everything will work out as it should.
It was a phone message yesterday that sent me spiraling, and when my phone messages went unreturned, I could feel the frustration rising higher and faster within me. But in the end I was grateful to have missed the phone call (I just didn't move fast enough to pick it up!) and also to have not had my own calls returned; it allowed me to really think through the possibilities presented, consider the positives and negatives of each decision (yes, I even made a list!), ponder, pray and read from God's word in search of guidance, and take the next 24 hours to really think about all the angles of the situation, instead of jumping in with an instinctual answer.
And so, all's well that ends well. In the end, the situation resolved itself even without the "meeting" this morning I prepared myself for. I had a whole list of well-thought out points to discuss, and when I arrived they simply said to ignore the phone message, all would be left as is. So although it might appear to have been a fruitless exercise in frustration for me, I have learned two important lessons that otherwise might have eluded me. Life lessons are always learned in the tough times, aren't they?
Monday, 14 September 2009
Being a wife
I'm reading a great book right now, great in that it is well-written and chock-full of fantastic ideas, but also great because it is bringing to mind many of the other little tidbits I've packed away in my memory over the years. "Building a Home Full of Grace" is written by a family - mother, father, and their five children, a culmination of more than 30 years of experience building a home and family.
More than anything, I have been reminded that my role in this family is wife first, then mother. Although I will always be mother to my beautiful children, I have less than 20 years in which I am living with them, where they are directly in my home. After that period of time, the goal is that they will "leave" their parents and "cleave" to their own wife, start their own family. Sad as it is to consider, I will then move into a secondary role. I realize this is the circle of life, and would not want to interfere by trying to cling to my boys when they should be stepping into the role of head of their own family.
And, what this is all a reminder of, is that James and I will always be a family together, here in our home. This is not the time to neglect my marriage in favour of raising my children. It is an easy rut to fall into; babies and toddlers and children demand so much attention because of their dependent nature.
And so I am remembering to be sure to date my husband, make time for him without the kids, support him and praise him and build him up in any way that I can. With my patience so short these days, and the boys driving me up the wall, I found myself resenting our business, James' work which demands so much of his attention. I found myself trying to get him to change something in his day, positive that the problem could be solved if only he would do something on his end.
Then, blessed by the book I have been reading and by some timely inspiration during Stake Conference on the weekend, I realized that I was going about it all wrong. Complaining and arguing and pushing someone else only tires you out; it is usually a fruitless exercise. True change comes from within. I realized the one who needed changing was me.
So I sat down and made three lists. The first was a list of the situations that appeared to be irking me. Then I went down that list and looked past the surface irritations to the reality and truth behind each one. Finally I looked for a way in each situation I could adjust my own attitude and do some small thing to show my love and support for my husband.
My list, of course, is personal, but here is an example of a situation that many women, especially stay-at-home moms, might come up against.
Situation:
He is working all the time.
Reality:
He loves to spend time with us and would much rather be hanging out with his wife and boys than working such long hours.
Support:
Make his favourite meal after an especially hard day.
Give him 30 minutes to unwind before bombarding him with the problems I need to share.
I was excited as the list of ways I could support James grew longer and longer. And I was excited to be able to start implementing them. I realized that as the primary parent in the home, I am the primary person who determines the atmosphere in our home. What a responsibility! Like it or not, my attitude is most likely to determine my home's atmosphere. And attitude is catching - if I'm short-tempered and irritable, then it's much more likely there will be negative feelings and attitudes all-around. But if I can get my chin up and try to speak softly, kindly, and supportively to everyone, then it's much more likely the atmosphere of peace I find so elusive will be much more pervasive. It's a huge responsibility and task - and one I know I won't always be up to. But as I consider the important role of wife that I am filling, I realize that I can't let it wait until the kids are older/grown/out of the house/business is slower/tasks are fewer. Because if (and that's a BIG IF) I ever do get to that point, I might turn around and find myself staring at someone I hardly know any longer.
And so I have opened my eyes to a huge role as a stay-at-home mom that I never realized I had before - that of supportive wife to my beloved husband. Likely it is one of the best examples I can set for my own kids, one of the best ways I can be the best mom to them: by demonstrating how sacred I hold this holy calling of womanhood I have been blessed with, inspiring each of them as they grow into young men, husbands and fathers one day, too.
More than anything, I have been reminded that my role in this family is wife first, then mother. Although I will always be mother to my beautiful children, I have less than 20 years in which I am living with them, where they are directly in my home. After that period of time, the goal is that they will "leave" their parents and "cleave" to their own wife, start their own family. Sad as it is to consider, I will then move into a secondary role. I realize this is the circle of life, and would not want to interfere by trying to cling to my boys when they should be stepping into the role of head of their own family.
And, what this is all a reminder of, is that James and I will always be a family together, here in our home. This is not the time to neglect my marriage in favour of raising my children. It is an easy rut to fall into; babies and toddlers and children demand so much attention because of their dependent nature.
And so I am remembering to be sure to date my husband, make time for him without the kids, support him and praise him and build him up in any way that I can. With my patience so short these days, and the boys driving me up the wall, I found myself resenting our business, James' work which demands so much of his attention. I found myself trying to get him to change something in his day, positive that the problem could be solved if only he would do something on his end.
Then, blessed by the book I have been reading and by some timely inspiration during Stake Conference on the weekend, I realized that I was going about it all wrong. Complaining and arguing and pushing someone else only tires you out; it is usually a fruitless exercise. True change comes from within. I realized the one who needed changing was me.
So I sat down and made three lists. The first was a list of the situations that appeared to be irking me. Then I went down that list and looked past the surface irritations to the reality and truth behind each one. Finally I looked for a way in each situation I could adjust my own attitude and do some small thing to show my love and support for my husband.
My list, of course, is personal, but here is an example of a situation that many women, especially stay-at-home moms, might come up against.
Situation:
He is working all the time.
Reality:
He loves to spend time with us and would much rather be hanging out with his wife and boys than working such long hours.
Support:
Make his favourite meal after an especially hard day.
Give him 30 minutes to unwind before bombarding him with the problems I need to share.
I was excited as the list of ways I could support James grew longer and longer. And I was excited to be able to start implementing them. I realized that as the primary parent in the home, I am the primary person who determines the atmosphere in our home. What a responsibility! Like it or not, my attitude is most likely to determine my home's atmosphere. And attitude is catching - if I'm short-tempered and irritable, then it's much more likely there will be negative feelings and attitudes all-around. But if I can get my chin up and try to speak softly, kindly, and supportively to everyone, then it's much more likely the atmosphere of peace I find so elusive will be much more pervasive. It's a huge responsibility and task - and one I know I won't always be up to. But as I consider the important role of wife that I am filling, I realize that I can't let it wait until the kids are older/grown/out of the house/business is slower/tasks are fewer. Because if (and that's a BIG IF) I ever do get to that point, I might turn around and find myself staring at someone I hardly know any longer.
And so I have opened my eyes to a huge role as a stay-at-home mom that I never realized I had before - that of supportive wife to my beloved husband. Likely it is one of the best examples I can set for my own kids, one of the best ways I can be the best mom to them: by demonstrating how sacred I hold this holy calling of womanhood I have been blessed with, inspiring each of them as they grow into young men, husbands and fathers one day, too.
Saturday, 12 September 2009
Colin's first day of kindergarten
Wednesday was Colin's first day of junior kindergarten. I have to say, the whole thing kind of snuck up on us, and in the end came and went without a whole lot of pomp and circumstance.
Tuesday night I found myself going to bed without having made a school lunch for him, without have labeled clothes or backpack, without have even gathered his school bag and things for the next day. Luckily with my early risers I knew we'd have at least two hours or more before leaving the house, which is plenty of time to get it all together.
I opted out of a "first day of school outfit," instead letting him choose his own clothes. Although there are so many cute things to wear out there, I'm more about fostering independence. Besides, a whole day of markers and paint and dirt - I'm not so sure I want to "dress" him up for school!
James gave him a father's blessing, in preparation for this new experience. He blessed him that he would be excited, that he would learn new things and make new friends. He blessed him that he would help those children who might be sad or scared. He blessed him that he would start to figure out using the toilet. He blessed him with safety and peace.
After a few quick photos on the front stoop, all four of us departed for the short 7 or 8 minute walk down the street to the school. There is a staggered entry for junior kindergarten in our area, which meant that most kids had already been back for a week by the time Colin's first day rolled around. Our usually quiet street becomes a through-way for kids walking to school, which provided a really neat sense of community.
We arrived just in time for the bell, which the kindergarten teachers were ignoring in favour of trying to make sure all their kids were present. When all the new students arrived, they made their way from the kindergarten play area over to the school entrance. There were about 15 senior kids who had already been in class for a week, and then about 6 junior kids to whom it was completely new. Colin was the very first kid to dart in the door when the teacher opened it! He was followed by another 4 senior kids, and the rest of the children stood outside clinging tearfully to moms and dads. Colin gave a very quick "see ya later, mom!" over his shoulder and disappeared inside. And just like that, the morning drop-off was over. James, Caleb and I headed home. And I felt fine. No tears, no sadness. I knew Colin was not only ready, but beyond excited to be at school. He goes a little batty at home with no "friends" to play with, and is constantly bombarding me to go to someone else's house for a visit. When I peaked in the classroom window (visible from outside), Colin was already exploring the classroom, checking out bins and buckets and wall displays. He was going to be just fine.
The day passed without incident. Colin's body still hasn't worked out the toilet issues, and so I was prepared for at least one, if not numerous, calls to the school to change his pull-up. But the phone never rang. Caleb and I passed the morning playing, reading, singing, cooking, and cleaning. After and early lunch we both squeezed in a good two hour nap, waking just in time to walk down and pick up Colin.
When the final bell rang, the door burst open and children spilled out into the playgroud. Colin came out reluctantly toward the end of the line. He was moving a little slower, evidence of the onset of exhaustion, but climbed up into the stroller and chatted my ear off the whole way home. Mostly about the friends he'd played with. I got very little out of him about what class activities had gone on, but I imagine he was just taking in the whole experience that first day, and probably not paying much attention to the teacher at all.
I riffled through a thick package of letters and communication, proudly displayed Colin's first piece of artwork, and got some food into my boy (he'd only eaten 6 crackers and one oatmeal cookie from his lunch - again, too much excitement during lunch time!). I gently questioned him about school, about his toilet accident (he changed himself, as we had taught him to do), and about a teasing incident the teacher mentioned (his blocked tear ducts sometimes mean his eyes get a little goopy, and some kids were teasing him about it), but it all seemed irrelevant to him.
That night I pondered a little more closely about this new experience for him. We enrolled him in French Immersion, which will mean a really good second language base. James took FI right through to grade 13, and I took it until grade 4. But even those few years for me provided a solid start that helped me become bilingual also. And the opportunity for so much friend time will be the icing on the cake for Colin. The day before school started, we had a little talk about how excited Colin was, but how shy and scared some other kids might be. I mentioned that maybe Colin could help some of his new friends who were a little scared to start school, by playing with them and making them feel better. I am constantly amazed at Colin's sensitivity to others, and willingness to play with anyone, regardless of age, sex or any other factor.
The last thing I did that night before going to bed myself was fill in a sheet provided by the teacher to help her get to know Colin better. I was most intrigued by the last question on the survey: what was I hoping Colin would get out of kindergarten? I thought about it for a few minutes, trying to discern exactly what it was I knew this class would provide to my son. I knew it had nothing to do with academic concerns - I've never been one wanting to push my child into early reading or writing. I knew it wasn't about socialization - I knew Colin was already well-adjusted in that area. Finally I was able to put my finger on exactly what I wanted out of kindergarten, and I penciled in just three words: indulge his creativity. That is exactly what I hope Colin will experience at school.
Tuesday night I found myself going to bed without having made a school lunch for him, without have labeled clothes or backpack, without have even gathered his school bag and things for the next day. Luckily with my early risers I knew we'd have at least two hours or more before leaving the house, which is plenty of time to get it all together.
I opted out of a "first day of school outfit," instead letting him choose his own clothes. Although there are so many cute things to wear out there, I'm more about fostering independence. Besides, a whole day of markers and paint and dirt - I'm not so sure I want to "dress" him up for school!
James gave him a father's blessing, in preparation for this new experience. He blessed him that he would be excited, that he would learn new things and make new friends. He blessed him that he would help those children who might be sad or scared. He blessed him that he would start to figure out using the toilet. He blessed him with safety and peace.
After a few quick photos on the front stoop, all four of us departed for the short 7 or 8 minute walk down the street to the school. There is a staggered entry for junior kindergarten in our area, which meant that most kids had already been back for a week by the time Colin's first day rolled around. Our usually quiet street becomes a through-way for kids walking to school, which provided a really neat sense of community.
We arrived just in time for the bell, which the kindergarten teachers were ignoring in favour of trying to make sure all their kids were present. When all the new students arrived, they made their way from the kindergarten play area over to the school entrance. There were about 15 senior kids who had already been in class for a week, and then about 6 junior kids to whom it was completely new. Colin was the very first kid to dart in the door when the teacher opened it! He was followed by another 4 senior kids, and the rest of the children stood outside clinging tearfully to moms and dads. Colin gave a very quick "see ya later, mom!" over his shoulder and disappeared inside. And just like that, the morning drop-off was over. James, Caleb and I headed home. And I felt fine. No tears, no sadness. I knew Colin was not only ready, but beyond excited to be at school. He goes a little batty at home with no "friends" to play with, and is constantly bombarding me to go to someone else's house for a visit. When I peaked in the classroom window (visible from outside), Colin was already exploring the classroom, checking out bins and buckets and wall displays. He was going to be just fine.
The day passed without incident. Colin's body still hasn't worked out the toilet issues, and so I was prepared for at least one, if not numerous, calls to the school to change his pull-up. But the phone never rang. Caleb and I passed the morning playing, reading, singing, cooking, and cleaning. After and early lunch we both squeezed in a good two hour nap, waking just in time to walk down and pick up Colin.
When the final bell rang, the door burst open and children spilled out into the playgroud. Colin came out reluctantly toward the end of the line. He was moving a little slower, evidence of the onset of exhaustion, but climbed up into the stroller and chatted my ear off the whole way home. Mostly about the friends he'd played with. I got very little out of him about what class activities had gone on, but I imagine he was just taking in the whole experience that first day, and probably not paying much attention to the teacher at all.
I riffled through a thick package of letters and communication, proudly displayed Colin's first piece of artwork, and got some food into my boy (he'd only eaten 6 crackers and one oatmeal cookie from his lunch - again, too much excitement during lunch time!). I gently questioned him about school, about his toilet accident (he changed himself, as we had taught him to do), and about a teasing incident the teacher mentioned (his blocked tear ducts sometimes mean his eyes get a little goopy, and some kids were teasing him about it), but it all seemed irrelevant to him.
That night I pondered a little more closely about this new experience for him. We enrolled him in French Immersion, which will mean a really good second language base. James took FI right through to grade 13, and I took it until grade 4. But even those few years for me provided a solid start that helped me become bilingual also. And the opportunity for so much friend time will be the icing on the cake for Colin. The day before school started, we had a little talk about how excited Colin was, but how shy and scared some other kids might be. I mentioned that maybe Colin could help some of his new friends who were a little scared to start school, by playing with them and making them feel better. I am constantly amazed at Colin's sensitivity to others, and willingness to play with anyone, regardless of age, sex or any other factor.
The last thing I did that night before going to bed myself was fill in a sheet provided by the teacher to help her get to know Colin better. I was most intrigued by the last question on the survey: what was I hoping Colin would get out of kindergarten? I thought about it for a few minutes, trying to discern exactly what it was I knew this class would provide to my son. I knew it had nothing to do with academic concerns - I've never been one wanting to push my child into early reading or writing. I knew it wasn't about socialization - I knew Colin was already well-adjusted in that area. Finally I was able to put my finger on exactly what I wanted out of kindergarten, and I penciled in just three words: indulge his creativity. That is exactly what I hope Colin will experience at school.
Tuesday, 8 September 2009
This is going to be framed...
Someone whispered this scripture to me at choir last week in reference to our tenor section, who weren't applying what the director was asking. I lost it in laughter, and immediately decided I needed to have it framed and permanently displayed in my home for my children:
"But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only."
(James 1:22)
"But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only."
(James 1:22)
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