Five is the same as Three except taller. And with more words.

You know, once Noah turned four, I thought, hey, this is it. We are done with the nonsensical tantrumming, the limp noodle-rigid board histrionics, the second guessing of the wisdom of having another kid. And four was magical. Sweet, snuggly, independent...everything you tell yourself it would be to get through the seventh circle of hell that is three. The corner, it had been turned. Smooth sailing all the way to puberty.

Thanks for setting that unrealistic expectation there Noelle.

Then kindergarten happened and I swear the drama has been upped by a factor of 10, not including my sensitive snowflake.

Let's talk about homework. He gets a packet of homework pages to complete in the week, four to five in total, so we break it down to to one page a night. We aren't talking diff EQs here, more like 'circle the pictures that have the beginning sound of /b/.' Or 'Trace and write uppercase and lowercase /E/.' Stuff he's been doing in school already and just practicing at home (see: homework.) Dylan drills Noelle on her spelling words at the same time so it's not like she's off on some magical adventure while he has to slave and toil. A single page will end up taking him 15 minutes to do because he throws down his pencil after every letter with an 'ugh! I can't do this!' which he has just done so okay. Then the tantrum passes and he finishes it perfectly happy without a fuss. Meanwhile it's taking everything in my power to drop plunge my head into the soapy dish water and scream.

What's also fun is food. We've recently informed him that we now expect him to eat the entire baby carrot as opposed the the single bite we were allowing before. I know, we're such monsters. This news was greeted with much wailing and gnashing of teeth which we ignored and went on with dinner. Five minutes later, Dyl nudges me - Noah's carrot was gone. We told him to eat the whole thing and he did. He also shoved the entire thing in his mouth at one time earning himself a really magnificent gag reflex but that's not the point right now.

But the best, far and away, has to do with anything regarding personal responsibility and not just trashing the house because forts are fun! Noelle has been asking about earning money and so we told them that they had been getting a secret allowance for a while now. Actually, I wasn't sneaking it and told them on more than one occasion where their money was but eh, it's just Mom talking. NBD. There are some Lego Friends sets that she would like that are really elaborate and hence really expensive. I'm not shelling out for that unless it's her birthday or Christmas and since both have just passed, she's got a while to wait but I did bribe offer her a deal: If she can save up half the amount from her allowance then Dyl and I would kick in the rest. Teach money handling, responsibility, delayed gratification etcetera and so forth. This took a turn towards chores and expectations around living in the house and contributing to its cleaning. In for a penny, in for a pound so Noah was included too.

See?! I did have a point with that backstory.

Well since we're now going to really seriously mean that that she needs to help out, it's only fair that Noah have similar requirements. The day we told them about this plan (picking up toys, putting away books, generally not trashing the house), I was sitting on the couch after dinner reading and Legos and various cars and action figures were strewn over the family room floor. It was almost bedtime so hey guys, come in here and put your toys away. Noah came in and gave me major stink-eye for not cleaning up. Sorry bud; I set the table, made dinner, cleared the table and washed the dishes. You're on your own. Moving on. Noelle was nowhere to be seen so he stomped around picking up a single Lego at a time muttering "This is gonna take forever!" and "Ugh! I can't believe I have to pick up all these toys!" Yes darling, it's a hard knock life you have indeed.

(I may have been hiding a big-ass grin while this was going down.)

For all that he may drive me insane, he's still my Doodlebug, my BooBoo, my yummy little guy. Five may be Three on steroids, but in the end, I'll take it.

Besides, can Three give you this much ninja?

I think not.

Superheroes wear chalk dust

If you have kids then you know that this week is American Education week. (And if you have kids and don't know this then you might want to consider cleaning out your child's back pack occasionally. Just saying.) This means we celebrate school and teachers and students and all things educational all. week. long., complete with Visits To The Classroom To Watch Them Learn. (Though really, why is this the week before Thanksgiving with all the attendant days off. Some of us have to work for a living yanno.) Anywho, this is the first year that both Noelle and Noah are in big kid school and luckily (?)  their classroom visit times were on the exact same day. Noelle chose to have Dyl visit her class and no switching allowed (her rules but grandparents could change it up, NBD. Thanks kid.) so I observed Noah's class. I know I went to Noelle's kindergarten two years ago but I don't remember anything like what went down in Room 2.

I walked in to the morning meeting where they were doing calendar-type stuff. But not just the days of the week, oh ho ho! No, this involved identifying all of the months, figuring out what day it was, putting it on the calendar, deciphering the pattern of the numbers, counting the number of days of school thus far (52), talking about how to group the numbers to get 52, predicting the temperature, reading the thermometer, graphing the temperature all while keeping 22 little butts on the carpet. After that, it was time for a break. This is the part of kindergarten where we dance.

What does the elephant say?

Now it was time for project number one for the day - making a turkey glyph. But before that, we needed to do the morning message as a letter and all the accompanying parts. Then popsicle sticks were drawn for the sight word detectives and lastly, a story about turkey's disguise. Directions were discussed for the glyph and the kraken were released to art and craft!

When the glyphs were finished, it was time to reconvene on the carpet for language arts and the mystery of syllables. Something else happened but you need the energy of five- and six-year olds to keep up. Or that of a kindergarten teacher. They were released once again with a page of Thanksgiving-related words and directions to separate them into one-, two- and three-syllables and paste in the correct columns. Then because I'm mean I made him pose for pictures with his grandparents. He'll thank me someday.

Note that *everything* above happened in less than two hours. Two. Hours. Introducing, reinforcing, reviewing concepts, teaching, encouraging, redirecting and praising, allowing them time to move and do and be. Kindergarten teachers are the force behind the perpetual motion machines that are children. I returned to work completely exhausted from watching this beautifully balanced chaos. 

To all of you early childhood educators, you are amazing. Thank you for all that you do with a group of ants-in-the-pants, semi-deranged howler monkeys on a daily basis and not giving in to the understandable urge to run away. I am forever in awe of you.

The wild rumpus

And I think Mrs. C in particular deserves something extra nice for the holidays this year, mostly likely in the form of a large bottle.

On second thought, better make that two.

On second thought, literacy is overrated

Yesterday I took the day off of work to be home with the kids to cover the public school closing for Martin Luther King Day and, to be honest, for a three-day weekend AND to watch the Inauguration. (Was thwarted BIG TIME by DEMANDING CHILDREN WANTING TO PLAY but no matter. Snuck glances  at the ceremony when Noah's back was turned.) Towards the middle of the afternoon when Noah was napping, I was messing around on the computer (and cursing it out under my breath for being an asshat), I detected with my keen Mommy sense that Noelle might be a little...bored. Barbie: A Mermaid's Tale can only hold one's attention for so long after all so I offered to play a game with her or read or do a puzzle. I clearly win at engaging-your-child parenting. Anyway, she chose the Super Why word builder game.

I was a bit surprised by that choice as I was fully expecting something like Twister or Sorry or even Fancy Nancy's Perfectly Pfabulous Parfaits or something. No matter. I'm cool, I'm hip, I can roll with it. (Ha. Haaaa.) So we began.

I had the purple and green letter cards (boy colors, CLEARLY) and she had red and pink (because GIRL. DUH.) We then took turns putting cards down in the order she dictated until we had three rows of four cards each. At that point she seemed a bit stumped as to what to do next so I suggested (clever me) that she see if she could pick out any words from those 12 letters. She jumped right on that suggestion and soon we were playing a game where I would build a word and ask her what other words could be made by changing the first letter. We went through the usual suspects: CAT to BAT to SAT to MAT. All good. Because they are learning combination sounds/diphthongs in school, we moved on to some of those: DECK to DUCK to MUCK...she cast around for another letter...F! FUCK.

FUCK indeed.

"Is that a real word Mommy?"

Yay! Put on the spot due to my own cleverness.

"Yes baby but it's not a nice word so we don't say that." Cough

And mysteriously enough, right after that was snack time.

Civil Discourse

The other night while we were eating dinner and discussing the President's proposal for gun control, Noelle was sitting quietly finishing her dinner. During a lull in the conversation she turned to me and said, "Mommy, Martin got shot."very matter-of-factly. Alarmed Dylan and I both gave her our full attention as she went on, "...Martin King-y. He got shot."  Comprehension flooded our faces.

"Yes honey, Dr. King was shot."

"Why was he shot?"

And here is where I was completely unprepared to discuss race relations of the 1960s with a six-year old but having promised that we would always answer her questions to the best of our abilities, into the fray we boldly plunged. "He was shot because a man who had light skin and light hair thought he was better than Dr. King who had dark skin and dark hair."

"Oh." Pause. "He was a bad man."

"Yes honey, the man who shot Dr. King was a very bad man."

"Did he shoot him with a bow and arrow?"

"No baby, he was shot with a gun."

"I hate guns."

"Me too."

From that point, Dyl and I tried to frame our explanations that there were a large number a people who thought that since they had light skin and light hair that it made them better than anyone who had darker skin and hair (and in some parts of the country still do). Her face lit up.

"Oh! Like the Sneetches! (Dr. Seuess story)."

"Right, exactly like the story. The Sneetches with the stars thought that they were better than the Sneetches without the stars but we know the truth: that it didn't matter because they were all the  same."

I relayed the story later that evening to my mother who commented that prejudice and hate is a learned characteristic. My grandparents had very strong prejudices towards a group but thought the individuals were just fine. It was exceedingly frustrating for my mother who was never able to get them to see the absurdity of their positions so all she could do was to raise my sisters and me with as few of those prejudices as possible. And Dylan and I will raise Noelle and Noah with fewer still. Maybe if everyone thought in a similar fashion, we could erase prejudice from the earth, one generation at a time.

As for me, I'm looking forward to Monday when I will be able to share not just the Dr. Martin Luther King celebrations with my daughter but also the inauguration. She's a pretty neat kid and I have to do my part too to lessen the chance of her learning prejudices against others.

And then? We'll bounce.

I expect the next great American novel by 5th grade

I'ma just gonna get this off my chest: Kindergarten does NOT mess around. I remember some 32-odd years ago being in kindergarten and working on learning the freaking alphabet, but apparently that's not good enough for our schools today. No, they want them doing real actual school work and when you're done with that, ASSEMBLE THESE PARTICLE ACCELERATORS KTHXBAI.

It has been six weeks since Noelle began her Journey Through Public Education with the first five coasting along, okay, we've got this: rules, sharing, no picking your nose in class, etc. But this week, oh ho HO! this week. Hope you enjoyed that gentle introduction because shit's about to get real up in here. FAST. Today is Wednesday. Please to be keeping that in mind. On Monday she came home and spouted off about compound words. You know, Mommy, a word made up of two other words. And then she proceeded to list lots of then. That party trick was followed up by clapping out syllables. Wow! That's awesome! You go with your bad self there girlfriend. Hey, it's homework time, let's see what the schedule says...hm. There...there isn't the monthly calendar. Oh look! It's the letter 'E' worksheet...but we just got the 'D' worksheets on Friday...okay, time to do your homework.

Last night at dinner she informed us that Mrs. Richmond calls the period 'Mr. Meany' because he stops a sentence. And that a comma means a pause and you know what? She's absolutely correct. This bears repeating: they are learning grammar rules. In Kindergarten. Grammar. Rules. Hey, homework time! Let's see if we have the calendar yet...nope. But look! It's the letter 'F' worksheet. I...um...crap. Were 'D' and 'E' supposed to be done by now? Do they all get turned in Friday? WHO SHOT JR?!

And then I proceeded to drink the rest of the bottle of wine.

The end.

I have seen the enemy and its name is Kindergarten

In a rare burst of domesticity/mothered-out-bliss, I volunteered to help out in Noelle's Kindergarten class with 'centers' once a month. Note: I did NOT volunteer to be room parent because HELL NO. My first day was yesterday as last week I received the calendar with the volunteer schedule. (Um, did anyone maybe THINK to check if said schedule for OTHER PEOPLE was actually workable?) (No.) (Obviously.) Because I am a TEAM PLAYER (and apparently have much more in common with sheep than I am comfortable examining right now), I sucked it up, kissed lunch good-bye and headed out. In a freakin' monsoon. I swear that the roads I took were *thisclose* to being completely washed out and I was headed for a starring role on the evening news: 'Over-involved mother of 2 discovered in tree after minivan was swept away in the Raging Corn River of October 2012'. (It was so that bad y'all.) In a rare moment of foresight, I actually built in extra time so I wouldn't be late to help a teacher who had no idea I was coming. Communication FTMFW!

Noelle's teacher was glad to see me though and my role was to assist the kids in their centers. Also to referee and cheerlead as 15 five-and six-year olds after recess are...challenging. And you know what? I really enjoyed it. It was such an incredible experience being able to be in the classroom with my daughter, see her participate engage in learning activities. And Noelle? She was so excited that HER MOMMY came to her class to help that she glowed. She wanted so badly to run to me and bear-hug me but she held it in until Mrs. Richmond gave her the go-ahead to break formation. And I was okay with that. My role was to assist, not disrupt the classroom routine that she had spent the past month drilling into those little heads. I was able to sneak in lots of hugs and kisses during my hour there; worked with two centers on making their books about their families and family trees. Basically, I was there to do whatever Mrs. Richmond needed to allow her to work with smaller groups of the kids. And these kids were great. Great listeners, very little redirection needed, they got along and I had a blast working with them, getting to know them and building Noelle's confidence that her mommy and daddy cared about her school. I know that I'm lucky that my job has enough flexibility to allow me to take an hour here and there to be involved in her education. Not everyone is as fortunate as I and I do not disparage anyone for not being able to do the same.

And this was a good transition for me after being so involved in her preschool day; in seeing her teachers every day and discussing the good and bad. So as much as it was for her, I guess it was for me too. So much so that I went and volunteered to pick up another day a month.

Someone send me some rose-colored glasses please? I have a feeling I'm going to need them.

Are you ready kindergarten? Here comes Noelle!

She's been in school for 4 full days now:

No hesitation, no nerves, just an unswerving BRING IT attitude.

Confidence oozed from almost every inch of her.

With sprinkles leaking out everywhere else.

We are locked and loaded for action.

Yeah, we got this.

Old patterns die hard

Noelle started kindergarten at the local public school this year (yes, pictures are coming, I swear!) and last night was her back to school night. Dyl and I had attended every single back to school night and parent-teacher conference offered at her daycare-preschool because we are concerned and involved parents who really just wanted to hear (again) how awesome our daughter was (and she is. Awesome.) so we figured, 'ain't no thang', just roll on in and that will be that.  What neither of us suspected was that long buried insecurities would raise their heads upon treading those hallowed halls of glue sticks and crayons.

As I had been the one to take Noelle to her orientation(s), it made sense for me to attend seeing as I (theoretically) would have a better idea of where to go. After scarfing down my dinner of roasted garlic hummus with crackers (foreshadowing!) and shotgunning a Pepsi, into the elementary school I strolled. Fortunately I did remember to change out of my work-clothes as khakis and a name-emblazoned polo shirt would just be too much fierceness for the community to handle. What I didn't allow time for was a shower because of course yesterday I would have been around the worst-smelling products that we could use. (Always. ALWAYS when I have to be around people.) Think sour roasted coffee deep fried with extra garlic (dun dun DUN) in an unconditioned school gym packed with people and an evening temperature of the balmy 85 degree variety and I cannot imagine why the other parents gave me such a wide berth. Which is to say that I was very much alone.

I can smell myself at the end of a particularly stankariffic day so I just assume that others can too. Maybe not but that thought was what I clung to as I perched on my seat, watching the other parents locate friends and neighbors from previous years. As the sea of jocularity and familiarity swirled around me, I felt so very very isolated but in a way, I do it to myself. I didn't make eye contact but continuously swept the crowd with my eyes, not looking for anyone or anything but to be aware. I busied myself reading the agenda and the other papers I picked up, looking busy, hoping no one smelled me and bellowed into the gym, 'My GAWD, what is that SMELL?!' (It's me by the way. Hey, you wanna be friends?) No one did because I have the ability to become pretty much invisible and when I am noticed, I'd rather it be for my wit and general awesomeness and not for my gift of making a landfill envious.

So there it was, the dichotomy: I'm not at my best, so please, no one take notice juxtaposed with the wanting of someone, anyone to make contact in a sea of strangers. I was being ridiculous of course; my child is in kindergarten and doesn't really interact with any of the neighborhood kids as her preschool/daycare was across the county. Relationships aren't built overnight, it takes time. I know that. I also know that it wasn't about me; that it won't be about me again but about her. And helping her achieve her best not only in school but also socially so I swallowed my fear and insecurities and...volunteered. To join the PTA, to help with her class, anything to help ease her transition into this bright, scary, wonderful new world.

Huh. Well, what do you know? Those old habits may not have died but sure are on the ropes. I think that we'll do okay at this school thing Noelle; you and me both.

No, it's One plus TWO plus One plus One...

Ha! So you thought that you'd stop by and see treacly endearments and cute photos of Noelle and Noah? In the words of the inimitable Dark Helmet: 'Fooled You!' (Okay, they are coming but something else happened today that I wanted to share and does not include my imminent demise and/or incarceration.) (Lucky you!)

I was driving home the kids home from Celebree Tuesday (okay, another aside; Noelle's schedule for this week is ree-DONK-u-LOUS. With a capital 'DONK'. She went 45 minutes on Monday, not at all on Tuesday, all day today (Wednesday), not at all on Thursday and (finally!) all day Friday and from that day forth forever and ever. Amen.) and we were talking about her first full day of kindergarten happening today, how she would meet more of her classmates and this is where things derailed, reminiscent of 'Clue':

Me: "...and tomorrow you'll meet four more classmates along with seeing Joshua and Kali and Chisom again."

Noelle: "Yes! And there will be seven of us!"

Me: "...No honey, that will be..."

Noelle: "But Mommy, there will be three and four and one. That's nine."

Me: "No honey, there will be..."

Noelle: "No, I mean 'seven'."

Me: "But..."

Noelle: "There will be four and three and one!"

Me: "...."

Noelle: "So that's seven new friends!"

Me: "...Wait! I've got it! You mean that there were three friends you met on Monday, yourself and the four new friends you'll meet tomorrow! I got it!"

Noelle (smugly): "Yes Mommy, that's what I said."

Her kindergarten prep teachers told me that she is a non-linear thinker, that she applies a different method to getting to the answer; I even shared that tidbit with her new kindergarten teacher and yet, fell victim to that classic blunder of getting involved in land wars in Asia underestimating my child. It's fascinating to see her approach problems and develop her communication skills but man, this will definitely put my linear-thinking brain to the test.

Good thing I've got a full wine rack.

Wish us luck.

Kindergarten: Achievement Unlocked

WUT?!?!

How did she go from this

to this

to this

to this

to this

to this

to this?

In the words of the song you sang at graduation:

Kindergarten here I come.

Kindergarten I will be there soon.

Kindergarten here I come.

I'm so glad it's June!

Sob.