Ready, Set...School!

I wish I was one of those moms who cried when their kids went to Kindergarten. It just seems so loving! I was so busy laughing, and dancing, and smiling that tears just seemed inappropriate. It's not like I don't like my kids. Fourteen years since the first drop off to Kindergarten I'm still trying to figure it out.

You know what else, since I'm being painfully honest, I'm also the first one to figure that my kids are flawed. When some parents exclaim at the disclosure of kids-behavior-gone-bad "It couldn't have been my child!" I'm thinking, "Oh, man, what have my kids done now?!" They are awesome kids, I just know that they are human and I believe, as they like to quote me in parenting mode that "mistakes are opportunities to learn!"

So, if we're all here on earth to learn and we shouted for joy when it was confirmed that we would be coming here, is it really so bad to shout for joy (or dance a jig) when they are about to embark on a new journey? And now that I've moved to Utah and the school bus does all the driving (three different campuses and 2+ hours of driving a day before we moved from California!) I don't see what I have to be depressed about when they leave.

Maybe I have too much faith in teachers. I am a teacher. I love to teach. But not all of their teachers do. For instance, without fail each of my children had the world's worst 6th grade teachers. And I would console them with words of comfort like, "Don't worry...you're going to have a boss some day that is just as crazy as this teacher and you will know just how to work with them!" Doesn't mean I didn't write the letter to the teacher that they deserved. It's okay to request that a crazy teacher changes their behavior, just not smart to think that they really are going to. Being a teacher, I always gave my kids' teachers the benefit of the doubt: maybe it was a tough day, forgot to take their meds, forgot they entered the teaching profession because they love children...But truth was always revealed at parent-teacher conference. A crazy teacher can't hide their bizarre attributes if you know what to look for in your one-on-one with them. Last year, as my daughter and I walked out of the school together I verified, "You're right, Baby, she's scary!" Maybe I secretly like the crazy teacher thing because then my kids think their mom is saner than they had thought :)

I have some pretty fabulous stories from teaching school. Many of them are about crazy parents. But most of them are about my craziness as a parent. For instance, I was always embarrassed with my mini van's assortment of junk on the floor until the day that I dropped Matthew off at school and was greeted by a friend who had arranged a play date to take Kirstie. There was my toddler, in not-yet-changed night time soggy diaper, footy jammies, and crazy, slept on hair (can't remember for sure but syrup-covered-face is a large possibility). Thanks to my overwhelmed- mother-can't-keep-her-van-clean syndrome I was able to find a clean diaper, wipes, a change of clothes, and even a plastic fork to part her hair and create pigtails with!! It was a moment of creative superiority that I have never forgotten. I can never boast about my organizational skills but when it comes to spontaneous bursts of wisdom in a crisis, I pretty much am The Bomb.

And personally I think Kirstie turned out great even though I have a photo of her taking a morning nap in a t-shirt sales box at school while I was immersed in PTA President business. Most preschoolers nap at home...lucky for me she was an easy child!

So how evil does it make me that I actually throw a party every morning before my kids leave for school? It's true. Throughout the universe, moms are greeting their children at the door when they return home from school with warm cookies and milk. Not me. I'm cooking up a storm to help them get out of the house in the mornings. We call this "Breakfast Club". It all began when I started feeling guilty that I am lousy with my kids at night. I am a morning person, big time. I don't know if it is the chance to start a new day and get it right this time or what, but I love mornings and fresh starts. So last year I proposed to my kids that we start a Breakfast Club where they could invite any of their friends to come eat a homemade hot breakfast before school. Breakfast Club rocks. They leave happy and they leave which creates happy me. Isn't happiness the point of our existence?!

One day I will answer for all my sins. I only hope my excitement about the first week of school isn't one of them. It is just too fulfilling to be wrong!