School Daze

Sammy seems to be enjoying kindergarten so far. I don’t get a lot out of him – mostly he tells us about lunch and recess – but I get the occasional snippet that leads me to believe they aren’t lashing the kids with wet noodles. His teacher has been very engaged from moment one, and hopefully thinks of me as an active parent and not, as my sister the teacher calls it, a Hover-Parent. She told all the parents she likes to communicate via e-mail, so I’ve already put that into practice. Seeing as she’s been kind enough to volunteer information about my kid’s activities and behavior, I’m thinking things are going well.

I’m on a learning curve, too, as a school kid parent. So far my lessons include:

School is not cheap. Besides the pre-start acquisition of supplies, made stupid simple by a 1 click order online process (although I do miss trolling the aisles for just the right Trapper Keeper), in the first few weeks we have handed over portions of income for a classroom magazine subscription (never mind these kids haven’t learned to read yet), a school directory, pictures, and, oh yes, a school fundraiser (more on that below). I’ll be broke by Thanksgiving.

Know your transportation methods. I thought I’d have loads of time to figure out the carpool drop off process (it looks ridiculously complicated to the non-school kid person trying to cut through the morning traffic) while we walked to school (an overly convoluted process in and of itself). Enter torrential downpour. Get in the car, kids.

You can bring birthday cupcakes to school in this day and age. Well, at least at this school, which surprised me since I was sure there would be 172 regulations that made it all but impossible. Seeing as Sammy’s birthday was the third day of school, I asked about the possibility on meet the teacher night, fully expecting, if not a big fat no, at least a please provide a peanut-, gluten-, dairy-free organic healthy snack made in a hermetically-sealed clean room. Nope. Bring whatever you want. Or have the cafeteria make it. Cool.

Sunflower seed butter is 3 times the price of peanut butter (and don’t even get me started on almond butter). But when your kid adores a good PBJ sandwich, and you are specifically asked not to send peanut products for lunch (although the cafeteria happily serves that dreaded PBJ at least twice a week, what gives), you do what you gotta do.

Fundraising starts early. Like the second week of school. They’re not messing around here. Although times have changed from when I sold Girl Scout cookies by knocking on random doors in my neighborhood. First thing, that’s out. So really I have no idea how you’re supposed to rack up sales. I mean, there are only so many family members willing to buy overpriced cookie dough, magazines, candles, and jelly rolls. Plus, you have to factor in retribution (who has young kids you will now be obligated to buy overpriced stuff from). And by the way, who determined that combination of merchandise? Why not throw in kitchen appliances, Hummel figurines, and raw lumber while they’re at it?

Things you think you can avoid for awhile will pop up immediately. See above: carpool lanes, fundraisers. And I can add one more to that list: medication. I do not think, in my entire school career, that I ever had to go to the nurse to take medicine for anything. Cue ear infection for the 3^rd week of school, with the added bonus of pink goo taken 4 times a day. So there I was, filling out paperwork and dropping off said goo with the very understanding nurse. A big thank you to you school nurses out there who not only have to deal with hurt and sick kids all day long, but also their slightly clueless parents.

I am terrified of something called “home fun.”

I’m certain my lessons will continue apace. How many days until summer?

On the plus side, there is the cuteness factor. Today, that came in the form of a teddy bear parade. Not so cute was having to assemble a “float” over the weekend, but we enlisted to assistance of far more artsy-crafty family members (thanks Amanda, Maddie, and Izzie) to get ‘er done. It was worth it to see all those munchkins towing their stuffed besties around in souped-up shoeboxes. My boy brought up the rear in style.

Yes, I’m already planning how to make Sabrina’s even better. Come on, one kid strapped Matchbox cars to the underside to make his float roll. The engineer in me is impressed (by what was probably the creativity of another engineer parent). Thank goodness I have some time.

So verdict: so far, so good. Now, if I can interest you in some cookie dough…

No, my box is not empty. He's just sleeping. Yeah, that's it.