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stream of conscious parenting.
Sep. 4th, 2012 05:13 pmI sometimes wish I had one of those candy machines; only it would dispense xanax or some other delightful anti-anxiety medication of choice. I would keep it by the door or something. That way I could also give them out to guests as a little door prize. "Thank you for coming over, xanax for the drive???" I would be the most beloved hostess in the area. "She makes cake AND has fabulous controlled substances."
I don't really look forward to school. My kid may drive me bananas at times (okay A LOT of the time) but I also like hanging out with him. I am not doing the "fuck yeah you are leaving and I am getting away from you" dance. (it isn't that I don't want space. I like space. I live in a space happy world for the most part but having my kids about is fun.) You add in the whole anxiety about school, my general worries for him because of the regression, and just his general quirky personality, and so on... it just winds me up. I also worry for every kid. Because they are all indeed special snowflakes and it is a crapshoot that you will have teachers who will understand/appreciate everyone's quirks, personalities, and hang-ups. It is such a game of trust to hand over one's child for a good portion of the day and say, "good luck, you may not love this person as much as I do, but at least try and be sympathetic." I have issue with those who believe you need to harden kids or grown ups for that matter to life. I think we need to work harder on being tender with one another because it makes us more kind in the end.
So yeah, I had to take Senor Onion off to his first day of school. There was the battle of getting him ready. I tried very very hard to be gentle. I gave him lots of hugs, I kept encouraging him, I was cool about the faffing about. He kept breaking down in tears. The buttons were hard to do, his socks weren't comfortable. He really didn't want to go to school either. As he told me, "I already know everything." Okay so he can't read yet, but he can do other things."
We all went. (had to get Miss Biscuit sorted for preschool, and I was straight up terrified of this whole thing. I told Mr. Jenner, "it's hard sending your kid off to school, when you don't have the highest opinion about how schools are run.") We took him in to the classroom. (reception and year one are together) The teacher looked barely old enough to have graduated from university. They are letting children teach now it seems. She was very sweet. Senor Onion had become a mute but he sat quietly with the other children on the rug. We eventually left him. I didn't throw up. Thought about it. We paid for school dinners, and a few other things. Then we went to the preschool (right on the same grounds) and there many worries lifted. Miss Biscuit walked right in and went to work playing. She who will always know her path. Like the character in the Powell & Pressburger film... "I know Where I Am Going". We had a chat with the preschool leader. It all looked good. We will start her with two days a week and then add over time. It's play-based learning, very flexible, and a delightfully tiny class size. Miss Biscuit can get good and messy there. Hurray.
Afterward we came home and I snarfled down a slice of cake...and some chocolate buttons...and some digestive biscuits. Because that is how you deal with anxiety. You carb out like a champion.
Took Miss Biscuit to the shops and grocery store. Came home and was glad that the school had not called. I did some more worrying.
I picked him from school at the end of the day. Nice and misty day. He was glad to see me but still quiet. I tried to ask him about his day. He said, "I didn't go to school. I was hiding in my room playing all day." Of course. I asked him, "Did you wrestle a dinosaur?" "Of course not Mom. Because there wouldn't have been a school left after that." Of course.
Eventually I got out of him that he knew his teacher's name. He drew a picture of me. He ate a snack of raisins. He ate his broccoli, carrots, and milk, but didn't touch his main course. (fine.) He played outside with some other kids. (one who was named Cameron) He had stories read to him, and his teacher shared a cuddly toy, named Ted. OH and he and other kids pretended to be doctors and patients running their own clinic. Not too bad for a first day. The Teacher didn't call me aside to talk about Senor Onion, so that is pleasing. Though who knows what tomorrow may bring. I did briefly mention to her that we just moved from overseas, and there was a bit of regression from him. I am a co-op parent to the bitter end it seems. Trying to keep the teacher in the loop about his outside life, trying to get an idea about what is going on, so I can stay on top of things, and help/adjust things as needed.
Oh damn, now I have to do this again tomorrow...and for the next twelve years. Talk about utter bullshit. Hey Senor Onion, wanna sail around the world and skip school? Me too.
I don't really look forward to school. My kid may drive me bananas at times (okay A LOT of the time) but I also like hanging out with him. I am not doing the "fuck yeah you are leaving and I am getting away from you" dance. (it isn't that I don't want space. I like space. I live in a space happy world for the most part but having my kids about is fun.) You add in the whole anxiety about school, my general worries for him because of the regression, and just his general quirky personality, and so on... it just winds me up. I also worry for every kid. Because they are all indeed special snowflakes and it is a crapshoot that you will have teachers who will understand/appreciate everyone's quirks, personalities, and hang-ups. It is such a game of trust to hand over one's child for a good portion of the day and say, "good luck, you may not love this person as much as I do, but at least try and be sympathetic." I have issue with those who believe you need to harden kids or grown ups for that matter to life. I think we need to work harder on being tender with one another because it makes us more kind in the end.
So yeah, I had to take Senor Onion off to his first day of school. There was the battle of getting him ready. I tried very very hard to be gentle. I gave him lots of hugs, I kept encouraging him, I was cool about the faffing about. He kept breaking down in tears. The buttons were hard to do, his socks weren't comfortable. He really didn't want to go to school either. As he told me, "I already know everything." Okay so he can't read yet, but he can do other things."
We all went. (had to get Miss Biscuit sorted for preschool, and I was straight up terrified of this whole thing. I told Mr. Jenner, "it's hard sending your kid off to school, when you don't have the highest opinion about how schools are run.") We took him in to the classroom. (reception and year one are together) The teacher looked barely old enough to have graduated from university. They are letting children teach now it seems. She was very sweet. Senor Onion had become a mute but he sat quietly with the other children on the rug. We eventually left him. I didn't throw up. Thought about it. We paid for school dinners, and a few other things. Then we went to the preschool (right on the same grounds) and there many worries lifted. Miss Biscuit walked right in and went to work playing. She who will always know her path. Like the character in the Powell & Pressburger film... "I know Where I Am Going". We had a chat with the preschool leader. It all looked good. We will start her with two days a week and then add over time. It's play-based learning, very flexible, and a delightfully tiny class size. Miss Biscuit can get good and messy there. Hurray.
Afterward we came home and I snarfled down a slice of cake...and some chocolate buttons...and some digestive biscuits. Because that is how you deal with anxiety. You carb out like a champion.
Took Miss Biscuit to the shops and grocery store. Came home and was glad that the school had not called. I did some more worrying.
I picked him from school at the end of the day. Nice and misty day. He was glad to see me but still quiet. I tried to ask him about his day. He said, "I didn't go to school. I was hiding in my room playing all day." Of course. I asked him, "Did you wrestle a dinosaur?" "Of course not Mom. Because there wouldn't have been a school left after that." Of course.
Eventually I got out of him that he knew his teacher's name. He drew a picture of me. He ate a snack of raisins. He ate his broccoli, carrots, and milk, but didn't touch his main course. (fine.) He played outside with some other kids. (one who was named Cameron) He had stories read to him, and his teacher shared a cuddly toy, named Ted. OH and he and other kids pretended to be doctors and patients running their own clinic. Not too bad for a first day. The Teacher didn't call me aside to talk about Senor Onion, so that is pleasing. Though who knows what tomorrow may bring. I did briefly mention to her that we just moved from overseas, and there was a bit of regression from him. I am a co-op parent to the bitter end it seems. Trying to keep the teacher in the loop about his outside life, trying to get an idea about what is going on, so I can stay on top of things, and help/adjust things as needed.
Oh damn, now I have to do this again tomorrow...and for the next twelve years. Talk about utter bullshit. Hey Senor Onion, wanna sail around the world and skip school? Me too.
