School days

School.   What a funny thing.  I was just explaining to B this AM that she has been asking me since she was TWO years old to go to school.   At that time, I remember the ECFE teacher asking me when her birthday would be, so she could start high 5.  I explained that she wouldn’t be 4 for another year and a half.  They were floored.   She is tall, articulate and (ahem… ) mature?  Ok.  I lied about the last part.   She does have skills to build in the social areas, but that is what school is all about. 

The strange thing about school, for me, is that it puts on display all of our parenting skills (or lack thereof).  The teacher will notice if she isn’t polite.  She will notice if she doesn’t shower.  Even if she doesn’t use her utensils properly.   I know the whole world is watching, but the teacher – they have the right perspective.  They know exactly what is on par for this age group and what isn’t.  Of course, this is Lake Woebegone right?  All my kids are above average.  That may be, but I have this lifelong horrible fear of standing out.  It all stems from a 2^nd grade spelling bee.  I pretended not to know how to spell the first word.  This way, everyone knew I chose to be done instead of actually not knowing something in front of other people.  GASP.  Now, I have gotten much better, but parenting sure brings these same insecurities to the forefront.  

Anyway – I could go on for days about what has been going on.   I might.   With my regular posting schedule, I should get there in about… 3 years.   The hardest thing about school for B has been getting up in the AM.  She loves the school, and the friends and the routine, but the morning is torture.   Here is where I think she and I are a perfect match.  Let me explain:

I lift her from her bed singing a gentle song.  She, in toddler terms, tells me to shut the f*up.  I sit her on the couch with me where we have 15 minutes to waste.  I get the lotion she made her nana buy, and rub her legs, feet and back and tell her stories.  These could be about anything.  But here is the trick, one of them has to hook her.  She is so intellectual, that one small hook and she is brought fully out of that sleep and into the world asking questions and ready to hurry into the clothes.   Force or aggression would never work with this lady.  Slow, steady and intellectually stimulating.  Today, a story about how she has been preparing for school for more than 2 years.   

Once she is hooked, she looks at the clothes I have picked out and sitting on the couch.  Inevitably, there is something there that is totally wrong.  That is also by design.  This is so she will get off the couch now and take me to the closet to show me what she WILL wear.  Boom.  No fight about leaving the comfort of storytelling to get engaged with the rest of the AM routine.    Then, in the bathroom she wants to use this fancy pre-rinse that shows her where to brush.  I can handle that.  We brush, potty and put on one of “mama’s necklaces.”  Wait, you say. You let her wear your necklaces?  Oh… there is a trick to that too.  I bought some costume necklaces at the State Fair for $2.00 a piece.  They are MINE (wink, wink) and she is wearing them proudly.

Anyway.  That is our routine. We go to the bus stop and sit and talk about nature.  We observe things like why is some of the sidewalk wet while other parts are dry?  Why is it colder today w/o clouds then it was yesterday w/ clouds?  Why does that lady wear tennis shoes with her skirt on her way to the bus?  We are learning all about this dang neighborhood in our 10 minute wait.  

The remaining mystery?  Why in the past two days has she hesitated getting on the bus in the AM?  What is the problem and what is the “trick” to solving it?  I have my theories… but you stopped reading by now anyway.