Continental Drift

I feel like my life is like Pangea slowly shifting into the continents we know today. The changes come subtly, you hardly even notice them, but when you look at the map of life, things are so drastically different.

Kindergarten
I can't say I'm completely happy, but true to E.'s teacher's word, things took a turn for a better after February break. Mornings of agony have slowly dissipated and made room for eagerness and pleasure in all the new things E. has learned. I, of course, still have a great many issues regarding curriculum, various policies, and just a general malaise regarding what's to come in future years of school, but I've put it to bed as much as I can for now. E. is happy and that's all I could ask for...for now.

School, for me
Perhaps this is where you have the giant earthquake, the ground rumbling and rattling, volcanoes exploding, all in one quick rush. Just as suddenly as it began, it ends. The dust settles, a few species go extinct, and everything is totally different.

I've been hemming and hawing about what I was going to do with my future, feeling like I better you-know-what or get off the pot. (I think a lot of my fellow '11 grads are going through the same thing, or so my Facebook feed tells me.) I've always planned on getting my Master's, it was just a matter of...well, everything. I didn't know the when or where or what, or really even the how. After conversations with coworkers, my husband, and my mom, I decided two things.

One, I wanted a math certification. This came as a bit of a shock to me, as I never particularly enjoyed math in high school, but now, as an adult and since I've been teaching it a lot more lately, I feel like this is something a) I could competently do and b) enjoy doing. I've been told by a few people (and I realize they may have just been saying this to be supportive/nice) that my lack of enthusiasm regarding math when I was a teenager might be an asset as a math teacher.

Two, I still want to get my Master's. The thought process I'm following at the moment is that perhaps after I get my math cert I'll be teaching full time (hopefully with adult ed. - more on that in a bit) and the school district would be so kind as to pay for more courses. That said, I've also filled out a FAFSA form and submitted it. Later this spring I'll see what the financial aid gods have deigned to give me. If it's decent (i.e. not too many, if any, loans), I'll plan on taking courses this fall, likely a math and a graduate course. In the mean time, my district is paying for me to take a math course this summer, college algebra.

This all came about in less than a week, and while it's still not Grad School Far Away as I had been dreaming about, it feels good to be doing something specific that work towards my and my family's futures.

Food

I gave up sugar for Lent. I vaccilate between self-hatred for shouldering the burden of not getting to eat anything delicious for forty days and being immensely proud of myself for not eating anything delicious, despite cravings, grouchiness, some extra-long, frustrating days. Now that I'm about two weeks into it (with another three or so to go), things aren't so bad and I'm resigned to my plight. Do I fantasize about a huge bag of those crunchy, candy coated chocolate bags that Cadbury puts out this time of year? Yes, of course. But I'm surviving and haven't been driven mad for all the wanting and can't having. My hope, by the end of this trial of will and faith, that I will be able to more completely curb my appetite for sweet things as well as continue to make better choices about limiting pre-made sauces and other pre-packaged things that one wouldn't usually associate with sugar (Wasabi Peas? Really?!).

Work

Without going into too much detail (you know that's hard for me), because I could go on forever, things have shifted at work. I truly love my job. I like my students, I like my coworkers, and I like what I'm doing. I feel like I'm a part of the system, but I get to help remedy some of the issues I've begun to identify since I've stepped out of it as a student. (And by system, I don't mean the school system - I happen think we have a well-intended school district with compassionate and all-in-all good educators populating it. It's the modern American school system that needs the tremendous overhaul.)

Currently, I only teach two nights a week, and it's all very loosey goosey (which I rather like). Lately, those nights have been slow. Real slow. Which is okay, sometimes, but there's only so much busy work you can give yourself before you break out your knitting between helping your one or two students with math problems.

Finally, thankfully, we've had an influx of students and I finally have to actually teach something. I chose Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer. Initially, I chose it because I knew I had a mostly written unit from English Methods back in college. But now that I've gone back and started to reread the book (my third foray into Alaska along side Chris McCandless) and have gone over the bits of that unit that survive, I feel like this is a great choice for an adult ed. student. There's a lot about taking the unconventional path in life, going against what's expected of you by others and by society, and being sure you really think about your choices, otherwise things may not go as planned.

Writing

While I haven't been blogging much (thinking about it a lot, just not doing it), I have been writing. I'm finally writing fiction again (this is where you hear me singing "reunited and it feels so goooooood!"). I'm about thirty pages into something that might just turn into Something. I don't know yet. A part of me would love to just put it all out there as I write it, like on Tumblr or something, just to see what happens, but another part of me wants to hold on to it until it's done, revised and perfect, and then slowly allow a few close friends to read it. I'd love to find a community of writers, either online or in real life, but I'm not sure where to begin.

And these are my continents. Formally tangled together and now drifting apart, seperate sections of my life that I couldn't quite pick apart and organize finally moving to their new places on my map. Of course, as with any kind of continental drift, they could easily move once more, or come slamming back into each other.

Trees for the Forest

Back in August and September I wrote about my reservations about E. starting school (here and here). My husband had suggested over the summer that maybe we keep her home a year and have her start Kindergarten late. I don't know what I didn't like about the idea more - starting her late so she was a year older than all her classmates or not being able to throw ourselves into the excitement of her first year of "real" school.

Now I'm wishing I listened.

It's not that E. isn't ready intellectually for school - she is. She's extremely bright and willingly does her school work. She's socially ready for school. She loves her school friends and from what I've seen and been told, they love her. She doesn't have behavior issues, either. She's been "clipped down" (a discipline system involving clothes pins, animals, alliterations, and a little bit of public shame...I have very mixed feelings about this whole deal) only twice the whole school year, and it was for excessive talking (certainly not a quality she gets from her mama).

No, there is something deeper here, something that really bothers me, because when a kid like E. comes home every day exhausted and starts each day begging to stay home, even after half the school year has gone by, there is a larger problem. And all I can look to for an answer to the problem lies within what I hear coming out of my girl's mouth.

"Mama, school is too long!"
"Mama, I'm so tired!"
"Mama, I didn't get to play today at all. There's no playing at school."

Imagine, for a moment, being five or six again, and imagine spending a whole day in a place, away from your secure little home with your mama and daddy, where you are expected to work for much of the day. Didn't we dissemble child labor some hundred years ago? Isn't the minute work of cutting and pasting and putting together something that went away with little hands at the conveyor belt?

Yes, yes, I know I'm exaggerating a bit, but again I say put yourself in the little light up sneakers of that five or six year old that is within you and imagine what effort it must take to be at work for four or five hours out of your school day. And to think that this is only the beginning of the school journey - it's not as though things get any easier after Kindergarten. Don't you think all this would leave a not so sweet taste in your little mouth when it comes to school? Do you think you'd want to come back every day if hours of academics you weren't ready for was all you did?

And that's just it - our little ones aren't ready for many of the academics that are presented to them in Kindergarten today (never mind that these are full days that are stuffed full, rather than the formally traditional half day). Concepts within language arts and mathematics that five and six year olds aren't ready for yet are being pushed, and are pushing out exploritive learning, arts, and movement. What kids need the most at these earliest stages of "formal" learning - hands on and physically and intellectually engaging activities - have all but disappeared.

I'm starting to feel desperate and sad. I don't know what to do for E. What changes can be made at the level of her classroom are limited, and what am I against the whole school, against a district, a state, a national policy? The only truly beneficial things I can think of is to take her away.

Now, I don't know what we will being doing. I don't know if we will home school. I don't know if we'll look at the very limited options for private schools in our area. I don't know if we'll just stay where we are and do our best to soften the blow that school will deliver and try our damnedest to protect E.'s intellectual curiosity. I just don't know.

Do you?

(If you're curious to hear more about the changes happening in education these days, this article featuring a talk given by Diane Ravitch on Common Core is fascinating.)

Things I Learned in Kindergarten

The months before Kindergarten were a struggle for me and my daughter. It's easy to be deceived by her similar appearance to me and penchant for big words and dramatics. It's easy for me to be tricked into thinking, She's just like me. Oh, but she is not. She is so, so different. And it was in the forgetting of that which caused a great deal of strife in that nerve-wracking and tumultuous time before school started.

Before Kindergarten, I would constantly ask myself (or even aloud), "Why is she doing that?" And the behavior I just couldn't make sense of would frequently be framed in a negative light, no matter how I tried to be positive.

Things are different now, after a few months of school, watching her in her classroom as I volunteer, seeing other children, talking to other parents, newbs like me and old parenting veterans, and speaking with her teacher, someone young, enthusiastic, and with a fresh eye on my kiddo that I don't easily have access to. 

That stubbornness? Independence. She doesn't need anyone's help, not mine, not yours, not that random kid who thinks he knows it all. That callousness? Well, it's not that she doesn't care, because to see her with her classmates, she does. She helps those in need with gentle reminders and doesn't tattle. But she's not beholden to anyone. She's not here to please and she wants to be happy. She hasn't yet, and I hope she never will, fallen into that horrible female trap of needing to please. She'll be nice, she's going to help the needy, but she'll be damned if she's going to change her life to make you  feel better.

We're different, my little girl and I, but we're different in a way to puzzle pieces are. They're differing shapes allow those pieces to snap together to form a connection and a fuller picture. I will help her find her balance, and she'll help me find mine. Raising a child, raising a daughter, is a long journey for any mother, but the more willing I become to see all her differences for the beautiful things that they are, the ever so slightly easier this all becomes.

Because, in the end, opposites attract. 

Kindergarten Questions

Okay, so, first of all, here is the required, ADORABLE picture of E. on her first day of Kindergarten:

 

She's pretty darn cute, right?

School has been okay so far. The first couple of days, while drop off was difficult, had gone really well. E. was excited to go, pleased with her new classroom and friends and teacher. But as our week has gone on, the words, "But the day is so long!" have been heard more than once. Yesterday, as we got ready for school, there was a refusal to get dressed, E. hiding under the covers, unwilling to get out.

"I don't want to go! I want to stay home!"

Part of me very much wanted to say, "Okay!" but, of course, I did not. I coaxed her out with promises to visit the playground after school and a favorite supper that night. We got her to school and she went in without a problem for the first time all week.

I left the school building, torn. I knew she was going to be fine. But, I would then say, what about better than fine? I know I have brought this up before, but it's still eating me up inside. I'm not entirely sure I could provide better than fine, I'm not sure if I should try, because although I am at home now, I'm not entirely sure I will be next year. With things so up in the air, it's hard to make plans, and while I don't know for sure her school is the best place she can be, I know it wouldn't be ideal to be changing things around a lot in just a school year or two. Above all, I know she needs consistency.

I want to provide a childhood for my daughter that speaks to the very best parts of her world, and I don't know if that's happening right now (both at home and at school - I'm not going to lay this all at the feet of the public school system). So, for now, E. goes to school. I try to make a healing rhythm at home. We both make new friends and learn new things. And we wait and see and hope that it will be better than fine.

Though She Be But Little, She is Fierce

Oh, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd! She was a vixen when she went to school. And though she be but little, she is fierce. (A Midsummer's Night Dream, Act 2, Scene 3)

 

Kindergarten is coming. Not this week, not next (though we do have an open house to attend), but the week after. Just under two weeks away, to be exact.

Outside, with that cool, dry air moving about us, you can smell school. When I stuck my head outside to let the dog out and took in that lovely deep lungful of breath, I could smell a warm breakfast, waiting for the bus, and school bells ringing. It's very September-y out there.

I've had quite a lot of turmoil, knotting very nicely in the pit of my stomach, about sending my big little off into the less insular world of "big kid school" (despite the fact that her preschool was actually located in the local high school). But I am also getting excited about this new adventure, and E. is, too. She's also very anxious.

Five year olds don't tell you, "I'm really scared about going to a new school, having a new teacher, and being with new kids who aren't my friends from preschool."

No, instead they tell you their bed is uncomfortable and they must sleep in yours (as if she'd stay in her own bed anyway...and we're okay if she doesn't). Instead, they pinch their baby brothers when you're not looking and tell you it's because he, "Gave me a mean look!" Instead they won't stop telling fart jokes or pretend to fart or poop on everything, even though you've asked a thousand times for them to stop. Instead, even the littlest thing takes them completely off kilter and results in an entire evening of, "But I want it!" and "You're the meanest mom EVER!" when previously they've never been one of those kids before in their lives.


Why didn't anyone tell me this would be so tough? Why didn't anyone tell me that in addition to feeling that little bit of sadness about my baby growing up was going to be mixed with the heart wrenching guilt and questioning of whether or not we're making the right decision in sending her away from our little home.

 

I know, in my heart, that once school starts and she starts to relax and feel comfortable with where she is going every day, things will settle down and our happy, not-quite-so-stormy girl will be back in full force. And I hope my own excitement about school will help her feel easy about it all the more (and I swear, she is excited, too). But then I wonder how long it will take her to
relax. What are those first days (weeks) of school going to bring us? Is it all going to be worth the emotional turmoil in the end?

I have been reminded over and over that kids are resilient. And they are. But should I have to make her be resilient?