2/44 = 1/22

Two weeks of school down. Squire's already lost his locker key and missed a couple homework assignments, but he seems to be holding onto the lunch card, which is impressive. And I think the school supplies thing went okay. Ah, the school supplies thing: I promised Julia I'd tell.

In June, the teachers hand out a list of supplies. This list is all the things the students will need in addition to the previous years' supplies, so you have to remember what all that stuff was (i.e.: the special little white shoes for gym class that became cottage shoes in the summer? remember you need to replace those now; they're not on the list) and also get the stuff that's on the list new this year ( i.e.: four paintbrushes: three large and round, one flat. The large and round ones have to be different sizes, which you didn't know, so Day1 you'll be back at the store getting different sizes). And you also have this stack of notebooks to buy, different sizes and different lines. And even different pens with different ink colors. And each notebook is supposed to have the kid's full information on it, AND a plastic cover. No store is going to have all the notebooks, all the right sized covers, all the pens. So the week before school starts is a mass of parents running around the stationery stores and already resenting the school for all of this, the purpose of which is as far as I can tell to rob you of the last week of summer.

This year I asked Friar to do the shopping with Squire, because last year I nearly had a nervous breakdown in the "tea egg and sugar company" trying to find 6 each of four different kinds of notebooks with the corresponding plastic covers. When facing a nervous breakdown: Delegate. They went to three different stores and still didn't get everything, but finally we got the whole list checked off.

And then in September you drop the kids off at the school, marching bravely through the doors in their new backpacks (when Squire started first grade, his backpack was full of so many supplies that he actually tipped over backwards), and 45 minutes later they pop back out. And the list has changed over the summer, it has always changed, and this year I realized that a Clever Parent would have waited til Day 1, asked for the list on the 45 minute day, and then gotten the stuff, because the first week of school is a JOKE and I feel like a PD Eastman dog: The parents are going around and around. "Go around again!"

Anyway, two weeks. We have the tutor again, so that's going well. And we're remembering this year that life exists beyond school. Last night we played Catan, and Squire and I worked to sing all staccato like Regina Spektor and we worked on dinner together, because it's fun, and because I maintain the hope that through cooking he'll come to appreciate a more balanced diet. Thursday night as Squire piled his plate with the third helping of pasta and cheese (our ironic nod to the Italian pasta strike), bypassing the homemade primavera sauce and the juicy chunks of chicken for which the pasta was supposed to be a side dish, I realized that he eats like a college student. First, there's the stunning quantities, with no parallel weight gain. Also, there's the fixation on white foods. In college, you gravitate towards white food cause it's easy to cook, but Squire genuinely loves the stuff. Toast! Awesome, my favorite! Pasta and white cheese, mmmmm. RAMEN NOODLES ALWAYS YUMMY. Maybe when he goes to college he'll have a love affair with vegetables just to continue in his bizarrosity.

We're doing well, I hope you are, too.

Comments

[ch]

College kids eat white food because they can! There is no longer a parent sitting there telling them they have to eat some chicken (it's white too!). I have a 2 year old and a 58 year old living in my house and both would eat only white food if allowed. The burden is on you-- save the Squire from a premature diabetic coma.

[anne]

Dude, you say that as if I'm not watching what he eats when you know that I am. It's just funny that he so greatly prefers things that are easy to cook (real question: "Can we have toast for dinner?") when I am actually capable of providing a wide variety of things. It's not that he's not given a balanced diet: it's that he doesn't appreciate it.

[Julia]

Thanks for the account! Delegation sounds like a good solution to list obsessed teachers.

I do wonder why the schools don't just buy everything their students will need at a wholesale rate, and then resell to the students the first day of school. It would make it easier for the parents, the teachers would be guaranteed that the kids have everything they'll need, and the schools would make a bit of money too.

[the patriarch]

Glad to hear things are going relatively well with school.

Check this out: Oldest kid who has always struggled with social and homework aspects of school is now doing great as a Freshman. Middle kid who is Mr. Personality and breezed through Kindergarten with kids and teachers wrapped around his finger now throws tantrums in 1st grade.

Hooray for parenting!

[Doppelganger]

I am now seriously afraid of what August 2010 holds for me.

On the white food note, we're dealing with the same thing over here. We're starting to get sneaky, though. On the weekend, we made homemade macaroni and cheese, and I hid about a pound of shredded steamed cauliflower in the casserole dish. That's right: I tricked my child into eating vegetables, and I feel pretty good about it.