In our fifth year of private schools, I no longer stuffer sticker shock at the school uniform store. These days, it's almost a relief to be able to walk into one small store, and buy a year's worth of clothes for the kids.
Uniforms had been a source of stress when my daughter started Kindergarten. Granted, that school was rather strict on some of the details. They had one approved shoe style that could be purchased from one singular store in town. She got a uniform violation one day because she put on a pair of white socks that had a thin pink stripe on them (oh, the horror of the non-conformist socks).
This school still has a uniform, a special plaid jumper, school-logo-printed-gym shorts (into which every child must change for gym class), etc. But we can pick our own shoes as long as they're mainly a solid color. And for the non-logo items, we can go with some generic brands or buy from Lands End where they have a custom list setup on line for us to see exactly the items that our school approves of.
It helps that my kids are kinda small and don't blow through two or three pants sizes every year. T-man will be wearing most of his shorts and pants from last year a second time, though I happily shelled out for all-new shirts for him. The boys wear white polos--the uniform shop has them embroidered with the school logo. Very sharp looking. Until they go out for recess. On a playground padded with black recycled tires. And then have ketchup for lunch. I think you see my point. We go through a lot of oxyclean in this house.
I think I've spent about $600 so far on school clothes. Sounds like a lot but that included long-sleeved and short-sleeved shirts for both kids (they both got around 8 tops--must have a full week's worth of clothes because we just don't get to mid-week laundry), all new jumpers for my daughter (they changed styles between 3rd graders and 4th graders, so she can't wear last year's), new belts for both of them, gym shorts for both of them (T-man needs them for the first time, and his sister wears them under her jumpers every day and had outgrown some older pairs), shorts for big sister for the rare fall days when she chooses not to wear the skirt. Big sister got soccer shoes, her brother still needs a pair. We lucked out and found two pairs of acceptable white tennis shoes for $12 each at Walmart for her. But the same Walmart had exactly one pair (not just one style, one pair) of workable shoes in T-man's size.
We will have to go back for leggings for our daughter when the weather cools down, and maybe buy more pants for T-man around Christmas. Some of last year's larger pants are now a good fit, which means he'll probably grow out of those mid-year this year.
That $600 seemed kind of expensive, but after this, the kids only need weekend clothes until next summer. My daughter's birthday is in August, so she can usually count on receiving a few cute fall outfits from that. And T-man will probably be in sweats and/or his soccer uniform most Saturdays all fall. And I figure that if we went to a public school and bought each kid a pair of basic jeans ($15), a short-sleeved shirt ($10), a long-sleeved shirt or sweater ($15) for every day of the week (5), we're already at $400 worth of clothes ($200/kid), and would probably need to replenish after 2-3 months of weekly washings. Kids would need clothes for weekends regardless, so I'm not counting those in my calculations. With only a few exceptions, the school uniforms hold up really well. So well that when I can make it, I can usually find nice used pieces at the school's used uniform sale (which the have an annoying habit of holding at 2pm on a week day once a semester).
Some days I miss the pre-school days of shopping the sale and clearance racks, stocking up on adorable baby clothes (usually a year ahead of when we'd need them). But as I start hearing complaints from friends with kids in the public schools as they struggle with dress codes and arguing with their children about what the parents will allow the kids to wear, I'm quite grateful for the uniforms. We have plenty of other things to fight with our kids about already :)
Showing posts with label Grade School. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grade School. Show all posts
Friday, August 02, 2013
Monday, January 28, 2013
Digging Out
One year ago, our family had barely hidden most of our moving boxes. We were paying two mortgages and enjoying a short breather in the mad rush of keeping our former home sufficiently kept up for showing. We had painted out the last of the bold colors that had garnered snarky remarks from house shoppers (a butter-yellow dining room and bubblegum pink laundry room were the final victims of the neutral paint). There was, for a month or two, no need to mow grass. We had not yet been invaded by birds or attacked by a massive hail storm.
The Christmas decorations had been put away, leaving corners and walls looking a little sad. School was in session. There were hints of drought, but only in the form of an unseasonably warm winter.
We were getting by. I guess that’s not too bad, in the grand scheme of things.
We were buried under too much credit card debt (too much for our own personal preferences, anyway, though it was a number that seems lower than many “average” credit card debt figures I see online). We were paying too much for a school where both of our children were struggling (despite both being well above average in intellect). Though were certainly paying our bills on time, we had almost nothing leftover for unexpected expenses, let alone niceties. We were frugal with extras for the kids, slow in signing them up for school activities, cringed every time they got a birthday party invitation. We shopped every grocery sale, cutting back on nicer items like steaks and alcohol, focusing on sandwiches and other low-cost foods.
I was stressed out and frustrated everywhere I turned. The house needed a few things (like a patio, and bedroom furniture, and some area rugs), but I had no money to make any of that happen. Lots of ideas, no way to implement them. I had finally achieved one of my lifetime goals—to publish a novel. But instead of basking in the fun of promoting a new book, I had no money to spend on a few basic items for giveaways or inexpensive advertisements. And I was published through a small press and digital-first, and really tired of other writers either rolling their eyes at the situation (after all, I hadn’t received an advance and wasn’t with a well-known press, didn’t have a print run, etc). I was tired of explaining to non-writers that I had an e-book and there were no print copies available. And really tired of folks asking me if that was a picture of me on the cover, or if the story was about me and my husband (its Fiction! Fiction means make-believe! Really! My real-life love story would put a reader to sleep because it is so wonderfully normal and boring).
I had too many people wanting too many things from me, and no one ever seemed happy with anything I did. My book wasn’t good enough, wasn’t legitimate enough, wasn’t promoted enough. The day job was full of conflicts. The new house felt unfinished. No one wanted the old house. My youngest was acting out in school and not listening (we were just learning that he couldn’t pass a hearing test, so “listening” was not his problem—“hearing” was), my oldest thought she was no good at math because she had bad handwriting and a messy desk (!). And all of our spare time was spent cleaning, painting, sprucing the old house, or else working extra hours to pay for its mortgage. There was no money in the budget for hiring a babysitter so my husband and I could have some much-needed adult time (nor was there money for a dinner out even if we had a babysitter).
I should have been feeling great about myself. New house, fancy school, beautiful kids, two blossoming careers of my own, a scout leader.
Instead I just wanted to crawl under a rock and hide.
If you are wondering what that kind of stress does to a person, well, if the person in question is a writer, it stops her from writing. I barely wrote a handful of pages for nearly a year. I mostly quit blogging (here, at my writing blog, or at my cooking blog). For the family, it made us yell. A lot. (I’m sure that didn’t help with our kids’ self-esteem or behavioral issues).
In some ways, it was good for us. We ate at home together. We got in the habit of having family movie nights (pulling from our collection of DVD’s or a free on-demand movie on TV). We found low-cost ways to play together (and I scrounged a lot of coupons for things like trips to the movie theater). We didn’t shop so much, and we all worked on fiscal responsibility. We appreciated how lucky we were (we weren’t “poor”—poor people don’t own two houses and attend private schools!). My husband and I grew closer, if you can believe it. Sometimes I think stress can drive a couple apart because of hurt and blame. But we both realized that we weren’t blaming each other, and that the way out of the stress was to work together and not against each other. We had to re-assure each other of that frequently.
After way too much time and effort and stress, we finally sold the house in November. No, the house was not the sole source of our stress. But it was the most visible sign of it. Getting it off our minds (and off our budget) brought a huge sense of relief, though it wasn’t really the first change that happened. First, We moved our kids from a more expensive private school to a more local parish school to save money, driving time, and sanity. While the youngest still struggles with sitting still and listening to directions, he has come a long way. My oldest was recently disappointed at her lowest grade—a 94%. My husband’s job situation both improved and stabilized. Then came the sale.
We have regained money, and time, and sanity. My day job has now shifted a little to one that allows me to occasionally work from home (helpful for managing the frequent school breaks and for squeezing in enough hours around the family schedule). I have actually been writing! (finishing one short work and most of another novel-length one, plus looking at my options for getting more of my work published) We started going out to eat again. We are starting to finish some of the unfinished work on the new house—buying some furniture, thinking about landscape plans, putting up decorations (like we intend to stay in the house for a while). We are even evaluating hiring out lawn care and house cleaning so that we can spend our after-work time on things like homework, soccer practice, and actual relaxation.
This year I hope for peace. I hope for a return to normalcy, whatever the new normal is for us. I hope to laugh more and smile more. I hope to help my children laugh more and smile more. I hope to be able to really enjoy my new job, really enjoy the writing and publishing process. And I hope I don’t need to move again for a long, long time.
The Christmas decorations had been put away, leaving corners and walls looking a little sad. School was in session. There were hints of drought, but only in the form of an unseasonably warm winter.
We were getting by. I guess that’s not too bad, in the grand scheme of things.
We were buried under too much credit card debt (too much for our own personal preferences, anyway, though it was a number that seems lower than many “average” credit card debt figures I see online). We were paying too much for a school where both of our children were struggling (despite both being well above average in intellect). Though were certainly paying our bills on time, we had almost nothing leftover for unexpected expenses, let alone niceties. We were frugal with extras for the kids, slow in signing them up for school activities, cringed every time they got a birthday party invitation. We shopped every grocery sale, cutting back on nicer items like steaks and alcohol, focusing on sandwiches and other low-cost foods.
I was stressed out and frustrated everywhere I turned. The house needed a few things (like a patio, and bedroom furniture, and some area rugs), but I had no money to make any of that happen. Lots of ideas, no way to implement them. I had finally achieved one of my lifetime goals—to publish a novel. But instead of basking in the fun of promoting a new book, I had no money to spend on a few basic items for giveaways or inexpensive advertisements. And I was published through a small press and digital-first, and really tired of other writers either rolling their eyes at the situation (after all, I hadn’t received an advance and wasn’t with a well-known press, didn’t have a print run, etc). I was tired of explaining to non-writers that I had an e-book and there were no print copies available. And really tired of folks asking me if that was a picture of me on the cover, or if the story was about me and my husband (its Fiction! Fiction means make-believe! Really! My real-life love story would put a reader to sleep because it is so wonderfully normal and boring).
I had too many people wanting too many things from me, and no one ever seemed happy with anything I did. My book wasn’t good enough, wasn’t legitimate enough, wasn’t promoted enough. The day job was full of conflicts. The new house felt unfinished. No one wanted the old house. My youngest was acting out in school and not listening (we were just learning that he couldn’t pass a hearing test, so “listening” was not his problem—“hearing” was), my oldest thought she was no good at math because she had bad handwriting and a messy desk (!). And all of our spare time was spent cleaning, painting, sprucing the old house, or else working extra hours to pay for its mortgage. There was no money in the budget for hiring a babysitter so my husband and I could have some much-needed adult time (nor was there money for a dinner out even if we had a babysitter).
I should have been feeling great about myself. New house, fancy school, beautiful kids, two blossoming careers of my own, a scout leader.
Instead I just wanted to crawl under a rock and hide.
If you are wondering what that kind of stress does to a person, well, if the person in question is a writer, it stops her from writing. I barely wrote a handful of pages for nearly a year. I mostly quit blogging (here, at my writing blog, or at my cooking blog). For the family, it made us yell. A lot. (I’m sure that didn’t help with our kids’ self-esteem or behavioral issues).
In some ways, it was good for us. We ate at home together. We got in the habit of having family movie nights (pulling from our collection of DVD’s or a free on-demand movie on TV). We found low-cost ways to play together (and I scrounged a lot of coupons for things like trips to the movie theater). We didn’t shop so much, and we all worked on fiscal responsibility. We appreciated how lucky we were (we weren’t “poor”—poor people don’t own two houses and attend private schools!). My husband and I grew closer, if you can believe it. Sometimes I think stress can drive a couple apart because of hurt and blame. But we both realized that we weren’t blaming each other, and that the way out of the stress was to work together and not against each other. We had to re-assure each other of that frequently.
After way too much time and effort and stress, we finally sold the house in November. No, the house was not the sole source of our stress. But it was the most visible sign of it. Getting it off our minds (and off our budget) brought a huge sense of relief, though it wasn’t really the first change that happened. First, We moved our kids from a more expensive private school to a more local parish school to save money, driving time, and sanity. While the youngest still struggles with sitting still and listening to directions, he has come a long way. My oldest was recently disappointed at her lowest grade—a 94%. My husband’s job situation both improved and stabilized. Then came the sale.
We have regained money, and time, and sanity. My day job has now shifted a little to one that allows me to occasionally work from home (helpful for managing the frequent school breaks and for squeezing in enough hours around the family schedule). I have actually been writing! (finishing one short work and most of another novel-length one, plus looking at my options for getting more of my work published) We started going out to eat again. We are starting to finish some of the unfinished work on the new house—buying some furniture, thinking about landscape plans, putting up decorations (like we intend to stay in the house for a while). We are even evaluating hiring out lawn care and house cleaning so that we can spend our after-work time on things like homework, soccer practice, and actual relaxation.
This year I hope for peace. I hope for a return to normalcy, whatever the new normal is for us. I hope to laugh more and smile more. I hope to help my children laugh more and smile more. I hope to be able to really enjoy my new job, really enjoy the writing and publishing process. And I hope I don’t need to move again for a long, long time.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Mom Guilt, Rainbow Brite, Justin Bieber, and Acid Wash Jeans
For Charlotte’s eight birthday recently, I bought her a gift card for Justice, a popular girls clothing store. They sell a lot of bright colors, and nearly everything has glitter or sequins. And lately they have a continual video feed of Justin Bieber music videos (plus t-shirts).
At this point, some moms are cringing, and others are getting themselves worked up about the appropriateness of dressing little girls like little girls.
My daughter wears a uniform to school. Every day, she has a white blouse plus her choice of blue school-plaid jumper, blue school-approved shorts, or blue school-approved uniform pants. When it gets cold, she’s got a couple of school logo sweaters and sweatshirts to choose from. Shoes are either plain black/brown casual ones or else all-white sneakers. Getting dressed is a total no-brainer (nevermind that she still drags her feet about it). It is also pretty limiting for her self expression.
Left to her own devices, she dresses like Rainbow Brite (remember her? Every stitch of clothing, and possibly her hair, was a different color). Yep. That’s Charlotte. On Sunday she had on a florescent yellow ruffled skirt, fluorescent orange top, red and green knee socks, and purple shoes. My husband and I raise our eyebrows at her color selections, but as long as the occasion isn’t too formal (it wasn’t), and the clothes are appropriately sized and for the weather (they were), then we just let it go.
So back to Justice and her gift card. The store is one of her favorites because everything in the place is glittery and rainbow-y, and, lately, looks like what I wore as a kid in the 80’s. Lots of fluorescents. Big boxy shirts over leggings (though they haven’t re-instituted stirrups yet). Denim skirts (these days the manufacturers are sewing shorts into them, so really they are denim skorts—much more playground friendly). Definitely a Who’s That Girl (Madonna? Crazy 80’s movie?) kind of vibe. Perfect for a girl who loves rainbows and needs outfits for playtime after school and on weekends.
Yesterday she walked in the door, gift card in hand, and had no idea where to start shopping. And then came the Mom Guilt. I don’t take her shopping very often. I am horrible at shopping with other people, and even worse at shopping with my kids. I tend to panic picking out Christmas gifts because there are too many choices. And I get easily frustrated with the kids changing their minds or just not making up their minds when looking for birthday party gifts. In other words, I’ve never taught my daughter how to shop. I usually just come home with a bag full of cute outfits in her size and hope she likes them. That used to be a good strategy.
Ok, she’s only eight. She doesn’t need to know how to build a wardrobe. And she has just last year mastered multiple digit addition and subtraction—calculating percent-off sales is still too much for her. So she needs guidance. And I am not good at guiding without outright
controlling the end result. I do math in my head, have a clear picture of what I think she needs in her closet, have a decent eye for fit before getting to the dressing room. But the whole point of a gift card is to give her more control, more say, more choice. And to let her experience the fun of browsing, trying on clothes, matching up outfits.
It was frustrating. There were multiple rounds of picking out clothes, calculating prices, putting clothes back, major disappointment when she realized that the black acid-washed stretch jeans (hello 80’s) didn’t come in her size, and so on. And then, at checkout, when she had just a little more picked out than her gift card could handle (and I’d already agreed to kick in a few extra $ for sake of keeping an outfit together), she spotted the Accessories. Buy 2 Get 2 Free plus 40% off. But she was out of money. And I was out of patience. And we both nearly had a meltdown right there at the register.
*deep breath*
The major lesson for me is that my daughter needs to be taken shopping more often. Not outrageous, no “Here honey, take Daddy’s credit card” or anything. But she does need control and some freedom to choose within limits. And she needs to learn to save a little money, and to deal with delayed gratification. I tried to suggest (demand) that she work on earning her allowance and plan to come back in a few weeks to pick out a necklace or bracelet. She needs to actually do that and see the whole cycle through—from chores to allowance to shopping.
Also, I need to not take Trystan with us. He likes to spin the clothes racks, has no idea why he isn’t allowed to pick out matching pink-and-purple “Best Friends” necklaces for himself, or green leggings, and thinks it’s funny to peek under the curtain of the dressing area. On the bright side, he loves Justin Bieber as much as his sister, and was content to dance to the music videos for a good stretch of time.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
School Supplies
Pre-packaged school supply "kits". Exactly the items, sizes, brands that each teacher wants. Delivered right to a child's desk on the first day of school. No running from store to store. No stores running out of a coveted item. Sounds like a working mom's dream, right?
I severely dislike the pre-packaged school supply kits. (Hate is a strong word).
Both schools that our kids have attended have offered them. The previous school tried at first to talk up the idea as supporting a local business, and a time saver, and all that. By last year they went so far as to not handing out school supply lists--just a link to a website (and if you wanted to "roll your own" you had to decipher the third-party company's cryptic descriptions of the items in the kit). New year, new school, same routine. Well, they did provide us with a list (using fully spelled out words instead of product codes). Though, as we found out today, there were one or two items left off the list that came in the pre-assembled pack.
But I'm still not buying.
Call me crazy (maybe). Call me stingy (frequently). Call me a control freak (uh...)
I like shopping for my kids' school supplies. When the giant bins of folders and crayons and glue sticks go up in the big box stores, I rub my hands together with glee. Hey, shopping is fun.
But it's more than that. Those kits are not a good deal. At both schools, the packaged kit costs about double what I spend buying the exact same items from a local big box store. For the last school, several of the items in the kits didn't need to be replaced every year. Scissors, rulers, pencil cases (mileage may vary on that one). Even some of the heavy-duty plastic folders were in like-new shape at the end of the year--the ones that stayed in the classroom and out of the backpack.
I guess when you try to work the whole "support local cottage industry" angle, it sounds very politically correct to pay up. But it is NOT local business if they have to ship the kits from a warehouse in another state.
I know that big box stores sell their packs of crayons for a quarter and pocket folders for a dime at back-to-school-time in order to drive foot traffic to the stores to buy higher-priced goods like clothes and shoes. It's a loss leader, designed to make a buck elsewhere and buy customer loyalty.
But I can buy half a dozen packs of crayons at their loss (and throw a few in the "Books and Backpacks" charity bin at work, or donate them to the scout troop, or just keep them on hand for rainy days and the middle of winter when the school demands a replacement and the stores are once again charging $2.79).
I don't need a personal shopper to go dig through the back-to-school-sale aisles, I don't need to pay shipping costs to get pencils from the store to the school, and I don't like having to pay a premium for those services. Maybe next I should pay someone to eat some chocolate for me. (Ok, shopping for school supplies isn't that fun, but still...maybe if the school supply kits would slip me an extra pack of graph paper to doodle on, or a pretty purple notebook for scribbling notes to myself, or one of the other little perks of doing my own shopping then I wouldn't feel so grumpy about it).
I would feel better about the price of the school supply kits if 1) the school themselves, or the PTA or parent volunteers were assembling them as a fundraiser for the school or 2) The cost of the kit was similar to what I would spend at the big box store. After all, the big (and not terribly local) school supply kit companies should be buying crayons and pencils by the pallet at a serious discount, so they ought to be less than $2.79 a pack.
Better yet, just hide the cost of the school supplies in the tuition fees (we're only talking $25-40 at the elementary school level--my kids go to a parish school, so I already pay tuition), and quit sending home a list at all. Then the schools can support whatever business they want to with their dollars, choose whatever supplies they prefer, and no kid shows up at school with 10 markers when they should have 8, or, worse, with none.
I severely dislike the pre-packaged school supply kits. (Hate is a strong word).
Both schools that our kids have attended have offered them. The previous school tried at first to talk up the idea as supporting a local business, and a time saver, and all that. By last year they went so far as to not handing out school supply lists--just a link to a website (and if you wanted to "roll your own" you had to decipher the third-party company's cryptic descriptions of the items in the kit). New year, new school, same routine. Well, they did provide us with a list (using fully spelled out words instead of product codes). Though, as we found out today, there were one or two items left off the list that came in the pre-assembled pack.
But I'm still not buying.
Call me crazy (maybe). Call me stingy (frequently). Call me a control freak (uh...)
I like shopping for my kids' school supplies. When the giant bins of folders and crayons and glue sticks go up in the big box stores, I rub my hands together with glee. Hey, shopping is fun.
But it's more than that. Those kits are not a good deal. At both schools, the packaged kit costs about double what I spend buying the exact same items from a local big box store. For the last school, several of the items in the kits didn't need to be replaced every year. Scissors, rulers, pencil cases (mileage may vary on that one). Even some of the heavy-duty plastic folders were in like-new shape at the end of the year--the ones that stayed in the classroom and out of the backpack.
I guess when you try to work the whole "support local cottage industry" angle, it sounds very politically correct to pay up. But it is NOT local business if they have to ship the kits from a warehouse in another state.
I know that big box stores sell their packs of crayons for a quarter and pocket folders for a dime at back-to-school-time in order to drive foot traffic to the stores to buy higher-priced goods like clothes and shoes. It's a loss leader, designed to make a buck elsewhere and buy customer loyalty.
But I can buy half a dozen packs of crayons at their loss (and throw a few in the "Books and Backpacks" charity bin at work, or donate them to the scout troop, or just keep them on hand for rainy days and the middle of winter when the school demands a replacement and the stores are once again charging $2.79).
I don't need a personal shopper to go dig through the back-to-school-sale aisles, I don't need to pay shipping costs to get pencils from the store to the school, and I don't like having to pay a premium for those services. Maybe next I should pay someone to eat some chocolate for me. (Ok, shopping for school supplies isn't that fun, but still...maybe if the school supply kits would slip me an extra pack of graph paper to doodle on, or a pretty purple notebook for scribbling notes to myself, or one of the other little perks of doing my own shopping then I wouldn't feel so grumpy about it).
I would feel better about the price of the school supply kits if 1) the school themselves, or the PTA or parent volunteers were assembling them as a fundraiser for the school or 2) The cost of the kit was similar to what I would spend at the big box store. After all, the big (and not terribly local) school supply kit companies should be buying crayons and pencils by the pallet at a serious discount, so they ought to be less than $2.79 a pack.
Better yet, just hide the cost of the school supplies in the tuition fees (we're only talking $25-40 at the elementary school level--my kids go to a parish school, so I already pay tuition), and quit sending home a list at all. Then the schools can support whatever business they want to with their dollars, choose whatever supplies they prefer, and no kid shows up at school with 10 markers when they should have 8, or, worse, with none.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
The First Days
I find myself facing the new school year with a bit of relief for the first time in four years. Although my daughter's former school had much to recommend it, there was a certain unrealistically hight level of expectation to which we as parents were held.
The problem may be all in my head (no doubut it was at least partly in my head). But a simple set of rules was never quite enough--the rules were rigidly, strictly enforced. And a simple call for volunteers was never enough. There was constant pressure, reminder emails, surveys, committees that needed help. And nor was a hefty tuition payment sufficient. No, there were as many phone calls and emails and hand-written letters and postcards all asking for donations. The uniforms were policed to the level where there were exactly two specific styles of shoes in the whole school: one for the girls, one for the boys. We were expected to label every pencil, every marker, every crayon in the box of school supplies. And it was rare that a nightly homework assignment came home that did not require an equal amount of active participation from the parent as well the child.
It was a lot of work. The school prides itself on the level of achievement of its pupils. No doubt. Any kid with the sheer amount of resources and energy behind them cannot help but succeed. (At least until they are set free and required to achieve their own goals using only their own energy and resources).
I don't expect parenthood to be easy. And I don't expect our new school to be lax where they need to be strict. They still have uniforms, they still need volunteers, there will still be hopeful requests for donations (though so far I have seen more information on applying for scholarships than on demands to fund them). There will still be homework that will still require our help.
But I hope there will also be some breathing room. Some expectation that we as parents have multiple responsibilities, and those responsibilities are not all focused on our children. We have jobs and other commitments too. Our money only goes so far. Our label makers only print so fast. And our children need to learn to keep track of their crayons without relying on a nametag. And to be able to choose from an appropriate set of choices when getting dressed in the morning, instead of always donning the one prescribed option.
The problem may be all in my head (no doubut it was at least partly in my head). But a simple set of rules was never quite enough--the rules were rigidly, strictly enforced. And a simple call for volunteers was never enough. There was constant pressure, reminder emails, surveys, committees that needed help. And nor was a hefty tuition payment sufficient. No, there were as many phone calls and emails and hand-written letters and postcards all asking for donations. The uniforms were policed to the level where there were exactly two specific styles of shoes in the whole school: one for the girls, one for the boys. We were expected to label every pencil, every marker, every crayon in the box of school supplies. And it was rare that a nightly homework assignment came home that did not require an equal amount of active participation from the parent as well the child.
It was a lot of work. The school prides itself on the level of achievement of its pupils. No doubt. Any kid with the sheer amount of resources and energy behind them cannot help but succeed. (At least until they are set free and required to achieve their own goals using only their own energy and resources).
I don't expect parenthood to be easy. And I don't expect our new school to be lax where they need to be strict. They still have uniforms, they still need volunteers, there will still be hopeful requests for donations (though so far I have seen more information on applying for scholarships than on demands to fund them). There will still be homework that will still require our help.
But I hope there will also be some breathing room. Some expectation that we as parents have multiple responsibilities, and those responsibilities are not all focused on our children. We have jobs and other commitments too. Our money only goes so far. Our label makers only print so fast. And our children need to learn to keep track of their crayons without relying on a nametag. And to be able to choose from an appropriate set of choices when getting dressed in the morning, instead of always donning the one prescribed option.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Choosing Schools
When we started our house search last year, we narrowed down the search areas in order to keep our kids in the same school. Ironically, it is that decision to move that has ultimately prompted us to change schools for next year.
The home we ended up falling in love with is in a wonderful community in a consistently top-rated public school district, with a large, growing, and vibrant parish school nearby. The closest public elementary is about two minutes from our house. The parish school is three minutes away (almost exactly one mile). Add another six minutes worth of drive time and we come to two more good parish schools. The independent Catholic school our kids have attended is about 20 minutes away, closer to 30 in rush hour. But for the first half of the school year, we didn't seriously consider moving schools.
We knew our youngest would have a rough transition from daycare into a highly-structured pre-k program. Add the house move during the second week of school, and I'm impressed the kid didn't implode. He actually held up really well, in my opinion. We had some potty challenges to overcome. He is potty trained, but due to his assortment of bowel surgeries and non-standard musculature "down there", he has more trouble than the average kid. That is never a good start.
Then his pre-k teacher told us that he was hard to understand and probably needed speech therapy. That was a bit of a shocker to me, personally. I could understand my son perfectly. In fact, he had been speaking in long paragraphs with multi-syllable words for quite a while. But after I thought about it, I realized that I was frequently repeating his words to others so they could understand him. Our school district evaluated his hearing and speech and found that he did, indeed, qualify for speech therapy. He also failed their hearing screening.
He eventually failed three hearing screenings from the school district. We didn't fully count the first two results because of ear infections (our little guy has a history of many, hard-to-kill ear infections). But the results were confirmed by our pediatrician, who referred us to an ENT, who diagnosed him with temporary hearing loss due to persistent fluid build up behind the ear drums. In four months of speech lessons, his intelligibility has markedly improved.
Meanwhile, we had another conference with the pre-k teacher who began the conversation with "Would you give him the gift of another year in pre-k?". That just floored me. She went on to show us his "academic" work--he knew every letter, every sound, every number, could count to 30 or higher...can you see my confusion?
I have a child who is, in all likelihood, gifted. He had been evaluated by Parents as Teachers since babyhood and consistently tracked as a kid one or two years older than himself. When I started researching the characteristics and needs of gifted kids, it was like a chorus of angels singing (hokey, I know, but when you get one of those "aha" moments, sometimes those silly cliches are true). And I wasn't grasping at straws here--as a kid, I personally was evaluated and deemed "gifted", my husband likely is too, as are all four of my sisters (if not officially across the gifted mark, then certainly way up there on the IQ scale). I'm not qualified to make that determination for my children, but I read articles like this, and am pretty convinced.
Back to T-man and the question of holding him back from entering Kindergarten. He has a March birthday, so is "young". We realized that much of his pre-k class are actually old for the year. Many turned five before the school year started (our son just turned five this spring). My son is also small, physically. That's not due to developmental reasons. Its pure genetics. My son has been consistently bigger and taller than his older sister when you compare their growth charts, but he is still at the bottom of the scale for boys.
So his classmates were taller, older, heard better, and spoke better than he did. The teachers called his social/emotional development immature. There might be a good reason for that. He is difficult to motivate if he isn't excited about an activity, but when he gets engaged in an activity, it is difficult to get him to let it go before he has mastered it to his own satisfaction. I can well understand why he is a handful when sitting in a classroom full of children who are eager to please the teacher.
Eventually, the current school decided that they would accept our son for Kindergarten next year. But the whole conflict had already sent us researching our options. From the local highly-rated public school system (with actual gifted education options), to multiple nearby religious and independent schools, we have lots of options. Lots. I toured the nearby parish school. They do have an out-of-classroom program for advanced kids. They also have a big student body and still offer the option of half-day or full-day kindergarten, expecting that some of their youngest students will need extra social/emotional nurturing the first year. They have band and art and sports and after-school foreign language classes, and really most of the same offerings that our existing school has.
And they are three minutes from our house. Our children spend most of an hour every day in the car, commuting to/from school. Next year, they will have about 10 minutes a day. And the parish school draws from the local neighborhoods, where the independent school drew kids from a much wider area, making playdates difficult to arrange.
Our daughter has done wonderfully at her current school and is sad to leave. She had her First Communion this year, and got to dance the Maypole during the May Crowning at school and I've been her Girl Scout leader for the year (something for me, personally, to feel sad about leaving behind). She has bloomed academically this year too--I suspect she is also gifted, though in slightly different ways than her brother. Her talents include a lot of deep insightful thinking, which tends to work really well in a classroom setting.
This is the right decision for our whole family for now.
I can't predict whether this will be our last choice of school. Perhaps we will be with the parish school until both children have moved on to high school. Perhaps we will re-evaluate after only a few years. I hope that we will not regret the decision, but somehow it seems that the events of the past year keep leading us down this path. Yes, I do believe that sometimes there are larger forces at work in our lives, leading us to where we belong.
The home we ended up falling in love with is in a wonderful community in a consistently top-rated public school district, with a large, growing, and vibrant parish school nearby. The closest public elementary is about two minutes from our house. The parish school is three minutes away (almost exactly one mile). Add another six minutes worth of drive time and we come to two more good parish schools. The independent Catholic school our kids have attended is about 20 minutes away, closer to 30 in rush hour. But for the first half of the school year, we didn't seriously consider moving schools.
We knew our youngest would have a rough transition from daycare into a highly-structured pre-k program. Add the house move during the second week of school, and I'm impressed the kid didn't implode. He actually held up really well, in my opinion. We had some potty challenges to overcome. He is potty trained, but due to his assortment of bowel surgeries and non-standard musculature "down there", he has more trouble than the average kid. That is never a good start.
Then his pre-k teacher told us that he was hard to understand and probably needed speech therapy. That was a bit of a shocker to me, personally. I could understand my son perfectly. In fact, he had been speaking in long paragraphs with multi-syllable words for quite a while. But after I thought about it, I realized that I was frequently repeating his words to others so they could understand him. Our school district evaluated his hearing and speech and found that he did, indeed, qualify for speech therapy. He also failed their hearing screening.
He eventually failed three hearing screenings from the school district. We didn't fully count the first two results because of ear infections (our little guy has a history of many, hard-to-kill ear infections). But the results were confirmed by our pediatrician, who referred us to an ENT, who diagnosed him with temporary hearing loss due to persistent fluid build up behind the ear drums. In four months of speech lessons, his intelligibility has markedly improved.
Meanwhile, we had another conference with the pre-k teacher who began the conversation with "Would you give him the gift of another year in pre-k?". That just floored me. She went on to show us his "academic" work--he knew every letter, every sound, every number, could count to 30 or higher...can you see my confusion?
I have a child who is, in all likelihood, gifted. He had been evaluated by Parents as Teachers since babyhood and consistently tracked as a kid one or two years older than himself. When I started researching the characteristics and needs of gifted kids, it was like a chorus of angels singing (hokey, I know, but when you get one of those "aha" moments, sometimes those silly cliches are true). And I wasn't grasping at straws here--as a kid, I personally was evaluated and deemed "gifted", my husband likely is too, as are all four of my sisters (if not officially across the gifted mark, then certainly way up there on the IQ scale). I'm not qualified to make that determination for my children, but I read articles like this, and am pretty convinced.
Back to T-man and the question of holding him back from entering Kindergarten. He has a March birthday, so is "young". We realized that much of his pre-k class are actually old for the year. Many turned five before the school year started (our son just turned five this spring). My son is also small, physically. That's not due to developmental reasons. Its pure genetics. My son has been consistently bigger and taller than his older sister when you compare their growth charts, but he is still at the bottom of the scale for boys.
So his classmates were taller, older, heard better, and spoke better than he did. The teachers called his social/emotional development immature. There might be a good reason for that. He is difficult to motivate if he isn't excited about an activity, but when he gets engaged in an activity, it is difficult to get him to let it go before he has mastered it to his own satisfaction. I can well understand why he is a handful when sitting in a classroom full of children who are eager to please the teacher.
Eventually, the current school decided that they would accept our son for Kindergarten next year. But the whole conflict had already sent us researching our options. From the local highly-rated public school system (with actual gifted education options), to multiple nearby religious and independent schools, we have lots of options. Lots. I toured the nearby parish school. They do have an out-of-classroom program for advanced kids. They also have a big student body and still offer the option of half-day or full-day kindergarten, expecting that some of their youngest students will need extra social/emotional nurturing the first year. They have band and art and sports and after-school foreign language classes, and really most of the same offerings that our existing school has.
And they are three minutes from our house. Our children spend most of an hour every day in the car, commuting to/from school. Next year, they will have about 10 minutes a day. And the parish school draws from the local neighborhoods, where the independent school drew kids from a much wider area, making playdates difficult to arrange.
Our daughter has done wonderfully at her current school and is sad to leave. She had her First Communion this year, and got to dance the Maypole during the May Crowning at school and I've been her Girl Scout leader for the year (something for me, personally, to feel sad about leaving behind). She has bloomed academically this year too--I suspect she is also gifted, though in slightly different ways than her brother. Her talents include a lot of deep insightful thinking, which tends to work really well in a classroom setting.
This is the right decision for our whole family for now.
I can't predict whether this will be our last choice of school. Perhaps we will be with the parish school until both children have moved on to high school. Perhaps we will re-evaluate after only a few years. I hope that we will not regret the decision, but somehow it seems that the events of the past year keep leading us down this path. Yes, I do believe that sometimes there are larger forces at work in our lives, leading us to where we belong.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
The start of summer
June 6, 2011
Sometimes I am surprised by how much my children really do understand about complex concepts. And how difficult grownups make things.
Our daughter was preparing for summer school this morning. The local public school district offers a free summer enrichment program for the next few weeks, which should be a fun change for her. She gets to ride the school bus every day and to pick out her own clothes. Her eyes lit up when I told her that if she wanted to wear headbands or barrettes, that they could be any color she liked. My poor, deprived, private-schooled child :)
She asked whether she needed lunch money, and my husband started into a long, complex explanation of how when the original information was sent home in May, that the school had applied for grant money from the state to help with the summer school program. The grant did come through, and lunches were now provided for everyone for free. I jumped in, quick to dumb down the explanation to just say that the school got extra money, so she can have school lunch every day if she likes and not bring any money.
She looked me crooked and then said, "I know what 'grant' means. It's when something is free, like a wish."
Yes, darling, that is exactly what a grant is. It is just like a wish (with perhaps a bit more paperwork).
Guess I didn't need to explain anything after all.
Sometimes I am surprised by how much my children really do understand about complex concepts. And how difficult grownups make things.
Our daughter was preparing for summer school this morning. The local public school district offers a free summer enrichment program for the next few weeks, which should be a fun change for her. She gets to ride the school bus every day and to pick out her own clothes. Her eyes lit up when I told her that if she wanted to wear headbands or barrettes, that they could be any color she liked. My poor, deprived, private-schooled child :)
She asked whether she needed lunch money, and my husband started into a long, complex explanation of how when the original information was sent home in May, that the school had applied for grant money from the state to help with the summer school program. The grant did come through, and lunches were now provided for everyone for free. I jumped in, quick to dumb down the explanation to just say that the school got extra money, so she can have school lunch every day if she likes and not bring any money.
She looked me crooked and then said, "I know what 'grant' means. It's when something is free, like a wish."
Yes, darling, that is exactly what a grant is. It is just like a wish (with perhaps a bit more paperwork).
Guess I didn't need to explain anything after all.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Hit the Road, Jack
I really don't mind snow, but Jack Frost is trying to make an enemy of my daughter.
Right before Christmas, she had her first snow day of the year. That incident was a fairly paltry snowfall and the roads were clear by 10am, so the two of us spent the afternoon Christmas shopping. Unfortunately, it was also the scheduled day for her class Christmas party. The next day was only a half day and most of it was taken by one of their feast day Masses and was the last day before break, so the Christmas parties were just plain cancelled. Charlotte was so upset about that Christmas party.
We had another snow day last week, which was no big deal. It was a lot of snow, and there was a sledding play date and hot cocoa and all was well.
Yesterday's snowfall was a doozy. We had right about a foot of snow on our driveway. Possibly the most I've seen since moving to St. Louis 17 years ago. Clearly, there was no school. And once again, Jack Frost decided to pick on my daughter. Yesterday her class was scheduled to take a field trip to see a play of Junie B Jones. With school buses and everything. (Hey, for a private school kid who drives in a car every day, school buses are a big deal). Guess what? The field trip is cancelled. The play is only running through this weekend, and the mid-day showing was a special arrangement just for schools.
I did go ahead and buy a pair of tickets for tonight's showing (it's a small civic center theater, the prices are less than the movie theater, and Junie B Jones is one of her favorite series of books right now). Plus she got to play in the snow, watch movies, play on the Wii, and sleep in yesterday. So it's not all bad. But really, can we quit with the whole "snow day = missing out" thing already? Because some of us really look forward to an unexpected break from the regular routine, and having to deal with a pouty kid is no fun at all.
Right before Christmas, she had her first snow day of the year. That incident was a fairly paltry snowfall and the roads were clear by 10am, so the two of us spent the afternoon Christmas shopping. Unfortunately, it was also the scheduled day for her class Christmas party. The next day was only a half day and most of it was taken by one of their feast day Masses and was the last day before break, so the Christmas parties were just plain cancelled. Charlotte was so upset about that Christmas party.
We had another snow day last week, which was no big deal. It was a lot of snow, and there was a sledding play date and hot cocoa and all was well.
Yesterday's snowfall was a doozy. We had right about a foot of snow on our driveway. Possibly the most I've seen since moving to St. Louis 17 years ago. Clearly, there was no school. And once again, Jack Frost decided to pick on my daughter. Yesterday her class was scheduled to take a field trip to see a play of Junie B Jones. With school buses and everything. (Hey, for a private school kid who drives in a car every day, school buses are a big deal). Guess what? The field trip is cancelled. The play is only running through this weekend, and the mid-day showing was a special arrangement just for schools.
I did go ahead and buy a pair of tickets for tonight's showing (it's a small civic center theater, the prices are less than the movie theater, and Junie B Jones is one of her favorite series of books right now). Plus she got to play in the snow, watch movies, play on the Wii, and sleep in yesterday. So it's not all bad. But really, can we quit with the whole "snow day = missing out" thing already? Because some of us really look forward to an unexpected break from the regular routine, and having to deal with a pouty kid is no fun at all.
Monday, October 25, 2010
The white dress
In case you're curious, I'm trying to send photos directly from my phone to the blog. The first method I tried yesterday involved sending a text message. Apparently, blogger will take a text message and publish it immediately, but NOT if it includes a photo.
I was able to email my blog address from the phone, but that saves a draft so I had to go back and tell it to publish. Like a week later when I finally remembered to do it :)
Anywho, here is Charlotte in her white dress from last week.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
My yearly masterpiece
(I hope the photo link works OK. I have no idea what it looks like through Facebook. You might have to actually click through to see the entire thing, the twitpic link seems to be cropping funny)
I used to sew a lot more than I do. I've made drapes and upholstered ottomans, quilts, stuffed animals, clothing, even my baby sister's flower girl dress for my wedding. I did stop short at making my own dress (though I still have one pattern that is gorgeous...I just need an excuse for a ball gown...).
Before my daughter was born, I imagined myself sewing all sorts of clothes and home decor and crafts for her. I have books and patterns and even piles of uncut fabric stocked in my office. Ok, other working moms, stop laughing at me. Really, now. Stop.
Actually what killed my sewing hobby wasn't Charlotte's birth, or the fact that my sewing room became her bedroom. It was that my new sewing space (our home office) shares a wall with Charlotte's bedroom. For years you could barely sit in a squeaky chair in that room after bedtime without waking her up. And then came her little brother.
In the past twelve months, I have sewn exactly two items. Charlotte's white dress for Kindergarten and now, as of last night, Charlotte's white dress for first grade. She goes to a Catholic school and for special mass days throughout the year, the girls all must wear an all-white dress. With sleeves. And not a beaded-satin-and-chiffon-mini-bride white dress. Something so "basic" that no store bothers to sell them :)
But I can sew, so sew I did. I had no time, and no space, and was up till the wee hours of the..oh wait, till 11:30...that's still late for me :) Her dress is done. Its adorable. I'm biased. I only had to cut the front out twice thanks to a little help from a scissor-wielding 3-year old. I did my first invisible zipper ever (something other sewers/sewists/seamstresses might understand...and that's a whole sewing-geeked out post of its own).
And I have no idea if it fits because my darling daughter was sound asleep when it was finished. And it still lacks the finishing touch: a good coating of stain repellent because white dresses attract chocolate milk like kittens to a crystal vase of flowers.
Photo of the completed dress on its new owner shall be forthcoming. First white dress day is tomorrow.
Thursday, August 05, 2010
Back to $chool
The St. Louis Post Dispatch this morning reported that the average family will spend about $600 this fall buying school supplies. They didn’t say whether that was per child, or whether it assumed the average 2.4 or 1.9 or whatever children per family. Nor do they say whether it includes school clothes and sports equipment, or just the learning-related supplies. But I believe it.
We only have one child to buy school supplies for, and she’s entering first grade. So there are no laptops or expensive reference books on her supply list. But that doesn’t mean our shopping list is much shorter than average.
Char goes to a private school, so uniforms are at the top of her list. And by “uniform” I don’t mean “generic white polo shirt and navy blue skirt that can be bought at Walmart”. I mean go to the one and only uniform provider to buy the one style of school-approved blouse, the one style of school-approved plaid jumper (which is different for first grade than the Kindergarten style), the one style of school-approved warm weather shorts, and the one style of school-approved under-the-jumper shorts. Her shoes are likewise dictated by the school and available from exactly two retailers in the entire St. Louis metro area. And no, this stuff isn’t cheap.
Purchased brand-new, it would cost around $120-150 to outfit her for a single day at school. Luckily, the school runs a used-uniform sale every summer, and she already has a collection of blouses, warm-weather shorts, and under-shorts from last year that still fit (many of which were bought at the used uniform sale last year). Unluckily, Charlotte must be the smallest first-grader ever because there were no used jumpers in her size at the used uniform sale (she would be swimming in the lone size 7 that I found, let alone the 8’s and up on the rack). So we still need to purchase one or two brand-new size 5 or 6 jumpers (at around $50 each). Or I need to do some serious tailoring. (In my free time LOL)
Besides every day uniforms, she needs an all-white dress for special feast days. An all-white dress with sleeves, but NOT made of beaded satin like most of the First Communion-type dresses sold in department stores. In other words, the type of dress you can’t find anywhere. The uniform store has a limited selection of ghastly options that run around $125. Hancock fabrics had some lovely white cotton eyelet for $5 a yard. So, about $30 for pattern, zipper, thread, fabric, lining fabric, plus several hours of my (free, LOL) time to cut and assemble. I feel for the families who don’t have the option of making their own dresses. And the boys who *must* buy a specific uniform-store-provided blazer and tie. (The boat we’ll be in once Trystan hits Kindergarten in a few years).
Lets not forget gym shoes (to leave at school), tennis shoes for warm-weather days (mostly white, no princesses or fairies or glittery pink-and-silver), tights (which last year lasted an average of 5-7 wearings each, tops), and plain red sweats for gym (not hot pink, no glittery emblems, in other words impossible to find in the girls department, and in dangerously low supply in the boys department of any given store). And soccer cleats. I’m not counting her soccer uniform (since it was paid for last spring with her registration fee), and she already has two pairs of shin guards from last year. We won’t discuss costs for other extra curriculars (potentially dance or gymnastics, to be decided once we see the final soccer schedule).
Did I mention actual school supplies yet? This is the one place where I actually feel thrifty. The school contracted with some small business to provide packs of pre-approved school supplies, at $40 for the first grade list. But when I looked at what was on the list, I realized I could do much better. She didn’t need another ruler (we bought 1 last year and she somehow adopted a second). She already had one of two required school-emblem pencil cases (the second was $3.50). She had a couple of folders in the proscribed colors that were still in good shape from last year. I had several 1” white binders with insertable covers that I’d bought in a pack for myself for something else. The rest of the items (pencils, crayons, markers, pointed scissors, additional plastic folder with or without clips in specific colors) were all available in the same styles/sizes/quantities from chain stores for very little money. I think I spent about $15, and that included extra sets of markers and colored pencils for home (at $1 for the Crayola washables, why wouldn’t I?).
Not counting the uniforms, we will spend way under that $600 mark. Counting uniforms and soccer shoes, we’re getting closer. On the upside, Char doesn’t need as much of wardrobe as other kids, since she only wears jeans and dresses and things on weekends, so we do save money there.
And I won’t even begin adding up the cost of the tuition. As I’ve joked, we’re not just saving for college, we’re *practicing*.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Homework
Last night, Charlotte was very upset about her homework. Not upset that she had to do it, but upset that she could not. She’s my daughter, no doubt.
Char is only in Kindergarten, but she has ten to fifteen minutes of homework every weeknight. Usually this is a worksheet or a book to read. Actually, anything math or number related becomes a two- to five-minute assignment, depending on how much of the sheet needs to colored after the questions are answered. The kid likes numbers.
Last night’s sheet was supposed to be a math sheet that involved counting out groups of ten bees and drawing hives around them. Char could describe in detail the directions, but the paper was neither in her homework folder nor in her backpack. The kid actually teared up when I told her that.
Now, she’s a bit of a drama queen, but she was honestly disappointed about the missing homework. I can relate. I was enough of a nerd to enjoy most of my schoolwork, all the way through college even. Sure, I got annoyed by the assignments I thought were busy work—the ones with unnecessary repetition or quantity of work that didn’t actually teach or challenge anything new. But I enjoyed work that challenged me.
It’s a lot of fun to watch my daughter learning new concepts and being excited about them. Her eyes light up as she works out a subtraction problem or a counting problem. And homework at her age frequently involves crayons, scissors and glue along with the reading and problem solving. The curriculum does a good job of keeping the kids learning and having fun at the same time.
I hope that she will continue to be as excited by school and have fun with her homework. But I don’t for one moment believe that she will always cry when she finds out that she has an unexpected break from the homework. And when she’s about twelve and whining about how much she has to do, I’m totally reminding her of this incident.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Teachable Moments
Sunday I took Charlotte with me to the grocery store. I had scribbled down a short shopping list, and she insisted on acting as the keeper of the list. That meant I had to translate my chicken scrawl for her. Halfway through the grocery store, she told me, “Mommy, I can’t read what you wrote,” for the millionth time in twenty minutes.
I fought the initial urge to just take the list back and finish the job myself. After all, the kid can read some words, but not a lot yet (“milk” was no problem for her, but “liquid dish soap” would have been hard even if I had spelled it all out). Instead, I decided to be a mother. A (slightly) humbled one at that.
I explained that I had written the note too fast, and hadn’t expected anyone else to try and read it. And that if I had taken the time to write my words out nicely, then she would have a lot less trouble. I then reminded her how we are always requesting that she take time in her writing, and that this was exactly the reason why. (Handwriting is not her strong suit because, like me, she prefers to scrawl the words down with little care for how nicely they’re formed). She understood, at least a little.
“Mommy,” she told me, “I need to schedule some writing lessons for you.”
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Do you Sudoku?
I do. And Charlotte does too, after a fashion.
Monday afternoon, while her brother slept, and Charlotte was working on a craft project, I sat down to do the Sudoku from the morning paper. I like these little puzzles and kept a calendar of them at work this last year. Once you learn the pattern of solving them, they go pretty fast (unless you get ahead of yourself and mix up a few numbers early on, ahem). Charlotte was immediately interested in what I was doing.
I showed her how the puzzle worked, and explained that you can’t repeat a number in any row, column, or small box. She wanted to try. She was serious. So I though I’d start her off with a fairly simple one. 3x3, not 9x9. I grabbed some paper, drew up a key, filled in about half the boxes on a grid, and handed it over. I thought I’d have a couple of minutes to work out a few more digits in my own puzzle. Um, no. She finished it before I remembered whether I was already checking rows or columns. She demanded more. I made a second 3x3 puzzle. Again, finished in the first try, about 60 seconds flat (she’s not very fast at handwriting).
So I sat down to make a 4x4 puzzle. These are a tad harder to hand-generate, btw. But once I had a working key, I realized that if you divide the 4x4 grid into 4 2x2 boxes, then the numbers don’t repeat within the boxes. Cool. Like a 9x9 (And I suppose it would also work out neatly in a 16x16 grid…hex-Sudoku here I come…).
That puzzle took her more time, and she actually had to do some re-factoring and re-thinking, and we erased the entire grid once for her to start fresh. But she solved it, with the exception of one solitary number. Then she asked for more. At that point, I deferred her to later, since she was also getting a little too frustrated (and refused to switch the one incorrect number, even though she knew what the right answer was).
Charlotte is, perhaps unsurprisingly, fast at picking up on mathematical and logical problems. She is all-around bright, really, though handwriting is hard for her (also unsurprisingly, as anyone who’s ever seen my handwriting could agree). But I am always making up numbers-type problems for her at home—demonstrating slicing a pizza and asking her to figure out how many slices we can all have, or how many we’d get if we sliced more times, how many cookies are left if everyone eats one, If we have 3 rows with 4 cupcakes each, how many are there. Math and cooking go together, though she’s becoming more and more interested in problems involving money right now…
This is one area that I think her pre-school all but skipped. Their idea of math was to teach the kids to count to 20. But in Kindergarten, she’s getting a well-constructed study of math and logic designed to challenge kids, in a school that prides itself on being “academically rigorous”. And she’s keeping up and helping out her friends.
And to think, according to the state of Missouri, Charlotte is not yet ready for school. Huh. Guess I need to write a little Sudoku generator tool.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
H1N1 update
Charlotte is back at school. Yesterday was basically a play day for her. Amoxycillin is a miracle drug. No, it wasn't prescribed to treat the flu--it was for the strep throat. I think the flu was on its way out, and the tamiflu finished kicking the virus out.
Trystan is home today, for the second day. He got both the flu and an ear infection. Probably the same buggies that infected Char's throat, and he has the same amoxycillin to fight it. Plus the tamiflu. Plus, he has asthma that only acts up when he's sick. So we have instructions to give him breathing treatments and an oral steroid just in case. He's fever-free this morning and playing well, so I'm sure he'll be back at school tomorrow.
Now that Char's back to classes, its time for her fall break. School's out Friday and Monday. Just what we need after expending so much sick time with the two of them the past week. I remember the days of earning more sick days at work than I could possibly use, and taking "mental health" days just so I didn't have to give away my paid time off. These days, as soon as I accumulate 8 hours, it's spent.
Trystan is home today, for the second day. He got both the flu and an ear infection. Probably the same buggies that infected Char's throat, and he has the same amoxycillin to fight it. Plus the tamiflu. Plus, he has asthma that only acts up when he's sick. So we have instructions to give him breathing treatments and an oral steroid just in case. He's fever-free this morning and playing well, so I'm sure he'll be back at school tomorrow.
Now that Char's back to classes, its time for her fall break. School's out Friday and Monday. Just what we need after expending so much sick time with the two of them the past week. I remember the days of earning more sick days at work than I could possibly use, and taking "mental health" days just so I didn't have to give away my paid time off. These days, as soon as I accumulate 8 hours, it's spent.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Whites
Today's post is about underwear. Not mine. Charlotte's. Actually, its about underwear she doesn't have. Because no one sells it.
Tomorrow she wears her new (made by me) white dress to school. When she tried it on last night, I realized that the skirt is a little bit see-through. It has two layers already, so I hadn't really checked for that, nor had I bought fabric for an additional liner (and I'd have to engineer a solution to add one).
I thought I'd go today and buy her a slip. Um, I guess I'm about 3 decades too late. No one sells little girls' slips. Actually, there aren't a lot of grown-up sized slips to be had either--a small handful of grannie ones (I briefly considered buying one and using it as yardage), and some tummy shapers. That's it. Apparently no one wears a slip anymore.
My backup plan (I'd guessed before the mini-shopping trip that I'd have trouble finding a slip) was to buy Char a camisole and some white panties. Now, the kid has probably 2 dozen pairs of underwear. And not one of them is plain white. There's Tinkerbell, hearts, stripes, bright purple, and probably a few princesses. But no white. In fact, across two different stores, I found exactly one pair of plain white undies in her size. Not one kind or one brand. One pair. In a package with a bunch of purple and green striped ones. And when I opened the package at home, I found that the top of the elastic is actually purple and green striped. But at least there isn't a magenta fairy on her rear.
I'm sure if I checked online, I could find several places that sell slips, or at least plain white underthings. And there might be stores in town that do. And I can certainly make a slip, assuming I have time to drive to a fabric store (because they keep moving farther and farther away, and lord knows Wally World doesn't stock something as basic as slip fabric). But I didn't have all day to devote to this--I had about 30 minutes, and one stretch of commercial road with a Walmart, Target, Kmart, and Kohls. You'd think that would be enough options...
So, kids clothing manufacturers and large discount retailers: stock basic basics! White whites! Yes, even 5-year olds sometimes need granny panties and slips. Please!
Tomorrow she wears her new (made by me) white dress to school. When she tried it on last night, I realized that the skirt is a little bit see-through. It has two layers already, so I hadn't really checked for that, nor had I bought fabric for an additional liner (and I'd have to engineer a solution to add one).
I thought I'd go today and buy her a slip. Um, I guess I'm about 3 decades too late. No one sells little girls' slips. Actually, there aren't a lot of grown-up sized slips to be had either--a small handful of grannie ones (I briefly considered buying one and using it as yardage), and some tummy shapers. That's it. Apparently no one wears a slip anymore.
My backup plan (I'd guessed before the mini-shopping trip that I'd have trouble finding a slip) was to buy Char a camisole and some white panties. Now, the kid has probably 2 dozen pairs of underwear. And not one of them is plain white. There's Tinkerbell, hearts, stripes, bright purple, and probably a few princesses. But no white. In fact, across two different stores, I found exactly one pair of plain white undies in her size. Not one kind or one brand. One pair. In a package with a bunch of purple and green striped ones. And when I opened the package at home, I found that the top of the elastic is actually purple and green striped. But at least there isn't a magenta fairy on her rear.
I'm sure if I checked online, I could find several places that sell slips, or at least plain white underthings. And there might be stores in town that do. And I can certainly make a slip, assuming I have time to drive to a fabric store (because they keep moving farther and farther away, and lord knows Wally World doesn't stock something as basic as slip fabric). But I didn't have all day to devote to this--I had about 30 minutes, and one stretch of commercial road with a Walmart, Target, Kmart, and Kohls. You'd think that would be enough options...
So, kids clothing manufacturers and large discount retailers: stock basic basics! White whites! Yes, even 5-year olds sometimes need granny panties and slips. Please!
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Fun News
I found out today that I won a bake-off, and I'm tickled pink. Ok, so my skin tone is basically pink normally. But you get the idea.
This is not really a big deal--it was through Charlotte's school fair last weekend. And there might not have been many entries in the adult category (I really have no idea). Hopefully there were at least 2 :)
It wasn't listed as a "recipe" contest, so I can't claim that the recipe itself (Triple Chocolate Pecan Pie) is originally mine. But it is yummy and tends to disappear every time I make it. And I do diverge subtley from the recipe and directions, so its fair game for a bakeoff.
Charlotte did enter the kids' division (with rice-crispy-like-bars made of Fruity Cheerios with white chocolate...she did all the stirring and pan spraying and decorating herself...and chose the ingredients!). Too bad she didn't place, but I'm guessing she was the youngest (or one of the youngest) entrants, and she had fun licking the bowl.
Of course, we had to leave the school's fair before the prizes were announced, so I have no idea what (if anything) I actually won, besides my name in the newsletter.
This is not really a big deal--it was through Charlotte's school fair last weekend. And there might not have been many entries in the adult category (I really have no idea). Hopefully there were at least 2 :)
It wasn't listed as a "recipe" contest, so I can't claim that the recipe itself (Triple Chocolate Pecan Pie) is originally mine. But it is yummy and tends to disappear every time I make it. And I do diverge subtley from the recipe and directions, so its fair game for a bakeoff.
Charlotte did enter the kids' division (with rice-crispy-like-bars made of Fruity Cheerios with white chocolate...she did all the stirring and pan spraying and decorating herself...and chose the ingredients!). Too bad she didn't place, but I'm guessing she was the youngest (or one of the youngest) entrants, and she had fun licking the bowl.
Of course, we had to leave the school's fair before the prizes were announced, so I have no idea what (if anything) I actually won, besides my name in the newsletter.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
The dog ate my homework
Actually, her brother colored all over it.
Charlotte has homework most weeknights. Usually it's a math worksheet, or sometimes writing or vocabulary words to work on. Last night's had two dot-to-dot pictures to help her work on sequencing numbers 1 to 20. She dutifully connected the dots (though she did get caught up in the pattern at the end instead of paying attention to the numbers).
Instead of putting her homework back into the red folder that all the kids use to carry papers back and forth to school, she left her worksheet on the kitchen table, next to her pencil. That's where Trystan found it. And decided to try his hand at dot-to-dots. Except he ignored the dots and just drew lines all over the paper.
My husband and I didn't catch it until this morning when we were rounding up backpacks and lunchboxes for school. There was no time (and no eraser in the house big enough) to clean it off and have her start it over. My husband wrote a note, and sent it along to school as it was--you could at least see Charlotte's work underneath Trystan's scribbles.
Charlotte wasn't concerned in the least about the problem, so I had to gently explain that it was her responsibility to make sure her homework went back into her red folder every night. Mommy and Daddy would help, but it was her job to ensure that Trystan didn't ruin her homework.
For good measure, I told Trystan not to color on his sister's homework. I'm not sure that message will sink in for another two or three years. He flashed me what I call his cherub smile at me--that innocent-looking, wide-eyed baby smile that gets him out of so much trouble. The one that means he understands exactly what I'm telling him and just how much mischief he's causing.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Today's High: 74
It always surprised me, growing up, that the hot summer temperatures knew to take a dive as soon as school started. One week, we were marching our way through band camp under the harsh sun, sweat pouring down our backs and ticking our noses, making it hard to stand perfectly still at attention. And the next, we were huddling in the bleachers during a football game, hiding under blankets in our Color Guard uniforms, with wool letter jackets and our white leather gloves still on to keep our fingers warm. And come half-time, we’d be frantically warming stiff fingers and the icy metal poles of our flags, hoping that we wouldn’t drop them during the performance because of the cold.
The past week has been like that. Mother Nature saw the start of school and dialed back the temperature by ten degrees. It should make for some glorious outdoor recess time for Charlotte, and a comfortable crispness during soccer practice. It also means that I need to go ahead and buy her uniform-appropriate tights, and possibly a fall jacket, because the days of bare knees and short sleeves may be closer than I thought.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Stop Obsessing Already!
I'm sure every reader of this blog has noticed that I can become a bit
obsessive about some topics. Lately, its Kindergarten. I think I'm
more traumatized by Charlotte starting school than she is. Every school
day so far, I've picked her up with a huge smile on her face, and not
the "Thank goodness my mommy's here to rescue me" kind of smile.
obsessive about some topics. Lately, its Kindergarten. I think I'm
more traumatized by Charlotte starting school than she is. Every school
day so far, I've picked her up with a huge smile on her face, and not
the "Thank goodness my mommy's here to rescue me" kind of smile.
Yesterday was another of my trying days, when I worried about all kinds
of things, imagining problems that never came to be. It was Charlotte's
second full day of school, her birthday, and her first day of soccer
practice. The poor kid had a backpack, lunchbox, soccer bag, and
Tupperware container full of cupcakes to bring to school. I believe she
had plenty of help to carry things, but its still a lot for a little kid
to be responsible for.
I was worried about the cupcakes-that I was sending them in the right
way. I had checked beforehand about sending in homemade ones, and was
told OK. I would like to have delivered them later in the day instead
of with Charlotte at dropoff, but there was no way to do that without
leaving them sitting in a hot car at work first. I didn't get any nasty
notes from the teacher, and the snacks were eaten, so I'm guessing that
all was good.
I was worried about lunch. As I mentioned yesterday, I'm still new at
this, as is Char. On Friday afternoon, she requested that I pack her
milk instead of having her buy it at school, so I did. But last night,
her thermos was still full. She told me she "accidentally got in the
milk line." Huh. Well, she also said she'd rather just buy her milk.
So today, I hope she accidentally gets back in that milk line.
I was worried about soccer. Char's practice doesn't start till 5, and
there's no good way for me to pick her up from school, get Trystan, and
get her back for practice without just driving around for an hour
straight. So she went to the school's late dismissal and got to play
outside and then have a snack inside instead. Someone else had to help
her get her shin guards and shoes on, and her jumper off, though she
really only needs help tying the laces. The rest she can handle.
I had not heard from the coach directly before the first practice, and I
was worried that she really didn't have practice until next week, and
would be stuck at school. And I had no contact number or email for the
coach. I ended up calling the school, and being re-assured that all was
well. I'm sure they think I'm neurotic.
Soccer went fine. Char loves it, and loves running. She got to share a
few extra cupcakes with her teammates after practice. And the coach's
daughter was in a dance class with Charlotte last fall, so the girls
recognized each other though they're in different classes during the
day. The coach's wife recognized Charlotte, too, and we found out they
live not far from us, and are considering signing their daughter up for
the same dance class I just enrolled Char in for the fall.
After soccer, Charlotte requested hot dogs for dinner, so we went to
A&W. Char got a rootbeer float with hers. At home, she cheerfully
worked on her homework-a worksheet matching capital and small letters.
And then she got to try out the Dance Dance Revolution Disney Edition
game that she got for her birthday.
I'm going to try, try, try to relax a bit. I think things are less
stressful from here. We've passed most of the "firsts" that I've been
anxious about. But, its only a matter of time before I find yet another
thing to stress out about.
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