When Thank You Isn't Enough

I already got a little teary eyed this morning.  On top of that, I completely made a teacher cry.
You see, there are people in life who, whether you realize in the moment or not, will leave a lasting and far reaching impact on your life.
Teacher can be those people.
Not always, but sometimes.

Sometimes, you happen to be lucky enough to be blessed with a teacher that isn't just good, or even great, but is the kind of person who truly makes changes.
This year, we were so lucky to have gotten Middie's teacher.  It was kind of luck, too.
She wasn't the original teach for the year.  We were supposed to have someone totally different, who ended up being moved to forth grade due to enrollment numbers.  This meant that two weeks into the school year, our teacher was moved suddenly form First grade, where she had been told she was going to get to stay, to Kinder.

Not only was she moved, but she was given the most difficult class I have ever seen.  I don't say that lightly.  The class mix was absolutely not a balanced one, and even I could see it.  Additionally, from being the "home room parent" I can tell you that the parents are mostly not active participants with the school.  I couldn't get anyone to come in and help with just about anything, not even for parties.  I mean, we are in the south, and people wouldn't donate food.  That has to tell you how bad it was.  We love party food here.  It's sort of a religion in itself, and yet, I had to beg and over compensate.  It is that bad.  So, she had little to no help all year long.

Yet, through it only, she didn't just choose to persevere, she chose to blaze.
This teacher came in and saw a flawed system.  She wanted better, not just for her class, but for every child there.  She knows that Kindergarten is truly the foundation of the rest of their educational careers, and she was determined to give every child at this school the strongest foundation that they could possibly get.
She advocated for change.  She fought for the kids.  I can not imagine what all she has put into that school this year, but I do know that every child in Kindergarten this year, and every year to follow, is better for it.
So, you see, I don't think there will ever be adequate thanks for all of that.  I would give her a medal if I could.  I should have nominated her for every single teaching award I could find.  Even though no one else may proclaim it, and all of those children who's future's have been changed may never even realize it, I know that she is truly the Teacher of the Year.

When it came time for teacher appreciation week, there was no way I couldn't give back.
I sent out a note asking all the parents to donate to a class gift, and letting them know it was teacher appreciation week.  Of course, if they won't donate food, I didn't expect much.  I did get a couple of donations.  That was great.  Regardless, as to who did or didn't help, though,she was getting a good thank you.
On Monday, when I covered the class for her during new Kinder registration, I took a blank white card and had all the kids in the room sign it.  I took it home to scrap it.  On Tuesday, she got a big, gorgeous, potted flower from us.  I took the donations we got, I ask for a Starbucks coffee theme since she has a coffee pot in the class, and put it in a cute container she can use in class.  In addition to the coffee and mug we had, I put a few other things in, along with the card from the class.  We also left her a little gift certificate in the book fair going on in the library for her to buy a book or two for the class.

This morning  I took everything into class.  I stood at the door and ask for two of the kids.  I had them give it to her, and tell her it was from the whole class.  She read what was written for her, and started to tear up.  She came over to give me a hug, and I started to cry.  I told her from the bottom of my heart that there would never be enough thanks for everything she has done, and said some of the things that I said here.  She is truly inspirational.
She is the kind of teacher that we all wish for when we send out kids to school, and we were lucky enough to get her.
I am thankful.  Now, and always.  Thank you for helping my child love school.  Thank you for giving her the best education you could.  Thank you for being kind.  Thank you for being generous.  Thank you for really making a difference that will be felt forever more.  Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.

I Wrote an Angry Letter

When we moved here, we rented this house almost entirely because of the schools it was zoned for.  Most of the schools here are crap, and I mean crap.  We picked a house outside of the city limits just because it happened to have a very highly rated school.  The PTA seemed to be super active.  Their academic scores were great.
I have to say though, that I have realized so much of your experience really depends on the teacher you get, and there are great teachers, and not so great teachers, at every school.
If I were able to separate the experiences I have had with Middie and her teacher, and The Biggest One and her teacher, I would swear we are talking about two different schools.  Middie has had a great year.  Her teacher is fabulous.  Really.  I am in there helping as often as I can.  I would do anything for this woman.  She has the worst class out of all the Kindergarten classes because of the way classes were selected last year, and honestly, she does a fabulous job with what she got.  Middie loves her and loves school.
The Biggest One, not so much.
I have actually spoken face to face with her teacher four times, but in those times, I can tell you that I have been labeled a pain in the butt, and I am totally disliked by this woman.  I also think she doesn't likes The Biggest One, though I would never let her know that.  It just shows in her actions.
Our first time talking was the first open house about the first or second week of school.  I offered to help her with anything I could.  She already had a home room parent.  So, I let her know that I scrap booked, and I would be glad to make things for the class, come in and help with paperwork, really anything I could do, just please let me know.  That was pretty much it.  She never said she wanted help.  Never communicated with the me.  I have since learned that her home room parents take care of everything, even the food for parties which I have to beg to be allowed to help with.
Even though we haven't spoken, I was learning a lot about her.  I realized that her demeanor in class wasn't exactly what I would have wish for in a teacher for The Biggest One, but that's just how it works.  We are all different people, and I just let all the fart jokes she makes, and that type of thing go, thinking it was tacky, but sometimes we meet tacky people, until she made a big boob joke.  The class was working on improper fractions, where the number on the top is bigger than the number on the bottom, and she called them Dolly Parton fractions.  When I was helping The Biggest One with her homework, and she called the fraction that, I nearly flipped my lid.  I ask where she heard that, and she said her teacher.  I couldn't believe that a teacher would make a boob joke like that to her class, not at this age.  I was totally offended.
My intent was to talk to her about it at a parent teacher conference, which was coming up.  However, when we got there that night, my plan flew out the window.  The second time I spoke to her was this night.  She had requested the conference.  She said that she wanted to talk to us about The Biggest One's personality.  She explained that in the beginning of the year, The Biggest One was being picked on some.  She told her to stand up for herself, and she felt like that advice had been taken too far.  Now, The Biggest One was sort of like a brick wall.  She always took definitive charge of any group they were working in, and wouldn't always take her classmates ideas into consideration.  She was bull headed.  I ask if my child was being rude or inappropriate to her, because that wasn't ok.  I happened to know, though, that the kids she wasn't listening to were the kids who were picking on her the worst.  She was taking charge and refusing to listen to them as a defense mechanism.  She wasn't about to give them the chance to be mean to her when she had to work with them, which was all the time.  The teacher said that in her classroom, she expected everyone to get along and like each other.

Yeah...No.

This is the real world.  Those kids aren't all going to like each other.  They can all be civil to each other, but that doesn't in any way mean that they will get along all the time or actually like working together.  You can forget that.
Anyway, the seriousness that she approached the issue totally took me off guard.  I know the The Biggest One is bossy.  I live with her every day.  In part, that is absolutely my fault, and I even told her teacher that.  I explained that as a military child, whose father has been gone most of her life, she had to often take charge of a lot of things that other kids haven't.  That was her life.  That is how she has been raised.  I don't think that is bad, either, but I do think it makes her different than a lot of kids these days, especially those not raised in that environment.  Last year, if she was being bossy, her teacher would make some kind of humorous comment to me as I picked her up, to let me know we had an extra bossy day, and The Biggest One and I would talk about it.  We would work on it.  That's all that was needed.  One sentence. One statement.  We understood and tried to work on it.  Instead, I get a fed up teacher who eventually tells me that maybe I should take my daughter to see the guidance councilor, then, if she has had such a hard time.

I think it was about that point in the conference that my husband got up and walked away.  He didn't want to be present for any more of our discussion.  At that point, it was two brick walls just banging against each other, both of them saying the same thing over and over again, with nothing really being heard.

And I totally forgot the big boob thing.

Anyway, after that, our only two other face to face interactions have been very positive.  I ask to come in and make ceramic Christmas ornaments with her class, something I do every year with my girls' classes if I can, and which she let me do.  I also saw her on math night, and we chatted a little.  It was pleasant enough.

So, this week, when she went off script again, I just about lost it.

I had to write a letter to another teacher, The Biggest One's science teacher.

I know this post has already been long, but hang with me a bit more.

Every week, we have Girl Scouts on Tuesday right after school in Middie's kindergarten classroom.  Her teacher put both of her daughters in my troop, and she helps me out.  It is awesome.  So, all of my troop girls come straight into the room after school, and the ones on that hall are actually in there before school is totally over since they come in when all the other kids are getting in their bus rider/car rider lines.  I have to be in that room right away while the teacher takes care of her dismissal duties.  It isn't a big deal normally, and most of my girls come right in.  The Biggest One, though, is almost always my last one in.  The problem is that they won't always let her come.  Some days they make her sit in the car rider line until those kids start leaving before she can go, even if the bell has already rung.  I wrote her teacher a letter reminding her that I was in the class room we meet in and couldn't get her from the line.  I really needed The Biggest One to be dismissed to come straight to me.  After my letter, that's what she did.  Since dismissal duties rotate, though, she isn't always there.  The other teachers don't just let The Biggest One go.  She has to ask each teacher when she can go, and then they tell her that day what she can do.
This past week, it didntt work out.  The Biggest One ask a teacher, and heard "after the bell rings".  What she didn't hear was "wait until the car riders start leaving" because of all the other kids talking.  Regardless, she waited until after the bell rang, which meant school was over, and came to me in Girl Scouts.  She was early.  She was happy.  Then a boy came to the door and told her to go back to her science teacher.  In about two minutes, my child walked back in to me, hysterical.  She was sobbing and couldn't stop.  She said that this teacher had jumped all over her.  I know the teacher is very strict, and comes across as pretty mean.  The teacher told her that she hadn't listened and would be sitting out recess the nest day.  My child was horrified.  She tried to explain that the other teacher she had ask to leave that day, a fifth grade teacher, not even the teacher who called her back to yell at her, said she could go after the bell rang, but this teacher refused to listen.  She didn't want to hear anything from my child.  My child did wrong, and she was in trouble.  Period.  End of story.

No.
No.
I don't think so.

I was mad.  If The Biggest One really did something wrong, I would expect her to be punished at school.  However, I don't think misunderstandings, especially when you are talking about inconsistent policy, should count.  Most importantly, though, is the fact that this woman chose to punish her with out ever listening to her.  That isn't ok with me.  In fact, they yelled at her for asking to go every week in this whole debacle.  It was clear that it was irritating to them she needed "special treatment".
I had to make it through an entire Scout meeting super pissed and not let my kids know.  That was hard. It took everything I had not to just walk down the hall and speak with her science teacher right then.
Instead, I talked to my husband that night, and decided to write a letter to the science teacher, the one who chose to punish her.  I slept on it to have time to think and calm down.
I wrote very carefully.  I said that it had been a misunderstanding.  I said that the biggest problem was the inconsistent policy.  I ask that every teacher give her the same dismissal routine, even if it meant that should would be the latest in the room, just so that The Biggest One would have a clear set of instructions to follow each week ,and she could stop asking them what to do.  I did say that she was almost always the last one in the room, and I would like to see her dismissed when the bell rang, like her teacher does, but if they feel that is unsafe for any reason, that we would take what ever was best.  I also said that if there were more concerns, then I would be glad to meet with the teachers who have dismissal duty over her, and the principal if needed, so that we could come up with a safe plan of action for dismissal for the rest of the year that would work for everyone.
It wasn't mean.  It was firm, but there is a huge difference.
I had my husband read it, and let me assure you, when it comes to my being bitchy, he can spot it from a mile away and would never fail to call me out on it.  He said the letter was fine.
So, since I had missed writing it by the time they left, I took it in to school.
There is a great little side story about me seeing this teacher as I was getting there, but I will save that for later.
For now, what you need to know is that I got it to The Biggest One right before lunch and recess when she was supposed to stand with her science teacher.  She went back to class, and before recess, she ask her teacher if she could go ahead and give the letter to the other teacher.  Her teacher ask to see it and read it first.  That pisses me off right there.  It wasn't addressed to her.
She read it, and according to the Biggest One, made a big eyed face.  She called the other teacher over, and said, "Here, her mom wrote you an angry letter."

I will let that sink in for a second.

You good?

Ok.  She said, in front of my child, that I wrote her teacher an angry letter. I ask if she had been kidding.  The Biggest One showed me the face she made three separate times.  She was absolutely not kidding according to my child.

Well, if I wasn't angry before, I was the moment my child relayed this.
It wasn't an angry letter.  I promise you.   Even if it had been, that was totally inappropriate to say in front  of my child.  You can bitch about me behind my back like all the people who have sense do any time you want, but not in front of my child.  What she did was just set up an adversarial position for the two of us.  She said I did something mean to that other teacher.  The teacher parent relationship should never be adversarial, and setting it up that way goes against the grain of everything I think schools work for.

How dare she.

So, this time I decided to take a couple of days and cool down.
I'm thinking a conference with the principal is actually in order.
That really wasn't ok with me.  I don't know exactly why she dislikes me so much.
I swear that if you got Middie's teacher together with The Biggest One's, and had them each describe me as a parent, you would think they were talking about two totally different women.  I would do anything for the school and my girls' classes that I could.  If you know me, you know that.  Last year, I went in no less than once a week for a couple of hours with two kids in tow to do paper work in the parent room because I feel it is my responsibility to help out any way I can.  That's my job.
Instead of viewing me as an asset, though, for some reason, she has chosen to make me an obstacle.  It honestly makes me want to cry.  I just want to help, not to be treated with out respect.
Anyway, this post has been super long.  Sorry.  If you made it through, thanks.
I'll let you know what happens from here.  I'm hoping for some kind of better.  Any kind of better.

I have a Plan to Fix The Deficit

I have what I believe to be a full proof plan to fix all the money woes we have in the great city of San Diego.
This is a very valid plan.  Ok.  Part of it is.

If the city would just deputize me to be both a fashion police officer and a parking enforcement officer, I could wipe out the debt in no time.

I wouldn't be any kind of fashion style police officer.  No.  I want to be a fashion etiquette officer.  If I find you wearing inappropriate clothing, you get a ticket.  While I get the whole freedom of speech thing, I would specifically target those who come to schools or other places that are primarily for children dressed inappropriately.  Yesterday alone, I could have racked up a bundle.  The process would be simple.  You see someone wearing a torn jean mini skirt where the pockets hanging out of the bottom are inches longer than the whats left of the hem line, they get a ticket.  When there is also a rip that goes up to where their hip in the front, only covered by the hanging out pocket, the fine increases.  When wearing that with a mini, stretchy tube top, the fine doubles.  Then, on top of all of that, when you stand there and complain about being cold, I add a nuisance fine.  That one person could have netted at least at good $500 to $1000 to go to the cty.  In fact, I think that when you wear that and are fined on school grounds, the money should go straight to the school system.  With some of the moms I see at schools, we could have every classroom in the city outfitted with the latest technology possible by next year, no problem.  Simply deputize one person per school, per school year, to do this as a volunteer position.  I'm absolutely positive the money brought in would out weigh the costs of training and the little ticket pads they would need to give us.

While that is wishful, and catty, thinking, the next part is actually very realistic, and I am thinking of how to propose this to the city.  Much like the Retired Senior Volunteer Patrol (RSVP) that drives around and checks on handicap spots, if they would seriously give the power to one person at a school to write tickets for parking violations, we could make mad bank.  Every day, it drives me nuts to see the people who really have no respect for others, and violate every parking rule possible when they pick up their children.  Apparently, each on of them seems to be more important than anyone else there.  You don't park in a red zone.  You don't park where you are blocking a drive way. You really, really don't park over a mini red zone, while blocking a drive way.  I'm barely able to walk some days, but if I don't get there early enough to get close to the school, I park on the next block and walk.  I doubt anyone has a valid reason for the bad parking.  Its just called lazy.  So, if people want to be that lazy, then they can pay for their crime, literally.  I would be glad to do it all for free.  Again, I am positive that the money brought in from all the parking tickets would far outweigh the costs of training and the little ticket pads.  Frankly, it would also be beneficial to the rest of us who do follow parking regulations.  Once you eliminate the people double parked, honking their horns at a child who doesn't even notice they are sitting there and blocking traffic, you are going to speed up traffic flow for everyone else.  I think it is a total win/win situation.  Unless, of course, you are the scofflaw who parks poorly, but then, you would deserve it.

If only someone high up would consider my proposals.  The second one at least.  I think we could make a dent in the city's financial woes one single volunteer with a pad of paper and pen at a time.

Snow Clue

I haven't lived in a cold winter area for nearly a decade. So, being back in an area where it is too cold to put your car tag renewal decal on the car, because cold temps cause them to break, is quite a change for us.

The Big One was born in south Texas, where the summers stay over 100 degrees. The Little One was born in beautiful, sunny San Diego. They don't know cold weather. We usually get about a week of cool to cold temps when we come back to Tennessee for a visit each year. They don't usually get the full effect of winter, though. That is starting to change, and change rapidly.

It snowed today. Real snow. As in big white fluffy stuff falling from a very cold sky. The flakes were huge, beautiful, fluffy things. It wasn't quite sticking, but it was really coming down.

In all that big white fluff, I had to go get The Big One from School.

I wasn't thrilled about this. Me no likey the snow. Her teacher is usually one of the last to dismiss, and I decided that I was going to sit in the car, until the classroom door actually opened this time. I wasn't going to stand there and freeze while she waited for all 20 or so 6 year olds to get it together. No, I could pass that time in the warmth and shelter of my car, then book it across the street when absolutely necessary. So, I did. As the door opened, I got out, locked my car, then actually ran across the street and up the school yard. I don't run much as a general rule, but I find myself doing it more and more in short burst of late. The cold seems to be quickening the occurrence as well. I sprinted up to the door just as The Big One came out.

"Why are running, Mom?" As I've said, not something I do.

"Because it is cold, and it is snowing." Both sounded like very logical reasons to be running to me. Of course, often times when in a conversation with my gorgeous blond daughter, logic is not exactly the driving force of the conversation.

"Is it really snowing?"

Now, the flakes that came down at that point, and the rest of the day were incredible. They were really huge. They were big enough to see each point on the flake, and were probably the most beautiful ones I can remember seeing in person. However, the temperature was not cold enough for the snow to lay on the ground and create any accumulation. So, you had big fluffy white stuff swirling around, that disappeared when it hit he ground.

"Of course it is. Do you see all the fluffy white stuff?"

"What white stuff?"
I admit it. Snowflakes are generally small, but these things were massive for flakes. In addition, it was really coming down.

I held out my hand and waited until a massive flake passed across it.
"Did you see that white thing?"

"Yes."

"That is snow."

"That's what snow is? Really? Wow!"

I had to confirm for her several times that all that stuff really was snow.

I'm quite sure all the other parents around us must thing we are crazy. From their perspective, it would be unreasonable for a child of her age to not understand the concept of snow. However, even though she is quite blond and that often is the reason for our odd conversations, I get it. When you see pictures of snow, you see accumulation on the ground. You don't see just fluffy white stuff floating around the sky. In fact, having lived the last 4 plus years of her life in Southern California, it could have well been ash floating around from fires during fire season, something the kids of this area may not understand. I get it. In fact, I would dare say there is a lot she has been able to experience by living in a coastal community that many kids here would never believe.

I love that The Big One finally got her snow. I love that she was so excited about it, even if a little naive about how it gets here. While other parents may have laughed at us, and I laughed too honestly, nothing can be cooler than watching your children discover new and different things and loving them, at any age.

What the Teacher Must Think of Me...

We had a little drama around here today. Actually, there wasn't any unusual drama here in the house, but at The Big One's school.

Today was after school Karate day. That is what we call it, anyway. Most of you know if by Tuesday. Each Tuesday for right now, The Big One goes to a very neat little after school program where they teach a martial arts program. She was very excited when I first ask her if she wanted to go. I was very excited when I saw how cheap it was. My thought was that she may not want to continue, and I didn't want to shell out big bucks for a real class at a studio that she would end up hating. So, this little after school program was a great compromise for us. I'm totally off the drama train, though.
So, getting back to the good stuff, today was Karate Day. After school, The Big One is supposed to walk over to the Kindergarten play ground where class is held. I will then pick her up after Karate is over.
This is week three for us. The first week I took her. The second week I sent a note with her to let the teacher know she would be going there. This week, my beautiful child was all primed to take herself over there again. No mother needed, according to her.
We talked about class this morning. I talked to her about not having practiced enough, and made her change shoes into something more appropriate for side jumps.
Everything was set.
So, come time to pick her up, The Little One and I get in the car and drive over to get her. We go just early enough to watch a couple of minutes of the class.
Once dismissed, The Little One runs over and grabs her, and we start walking out.

Now, you need just a tiny bit more back story here. Yellow cards are her First grade teacher's reward system. If you are good all day, at the end of each day you get a yellow card. Once you have 15 you can go to the prize box.
So, every day when I pick her up, the first thing she tells me is if she got a yellow card or not.

Today was no different. As soon as we started walking to the car, she started to tell me about her day.

"I got a yellow card, but had to give it back at the end of the day."

Why did you give it back?

"I got out of line. So, I had to give it back."

Why did you..

"OH! And I had to go to the Principal's office."

What??

I will save you from a conversation that took me quite some time to unravel. It seems that at the end of the day, The Big One forgot that today was Karate day. So, when the bell rang, she stood in her line by the classroom where they wait for parents to pick them up. She waited, and waited. When she began to get nervous and upset, she got out of line to look for me. That would be when she lost the yellow card and had to give it back. Sometimes after I never came, the teacher took her to the office for her to wait there for me.

I couldn't believe all this. I wasn't sure if I should be upset that she forgot, or feel bad for her at first.

"Were you upset?"

"Yes, mom! I was really worried."

"Did you really think I had forgotten you?"

"Yes. I thought you just forgot to get me."

"Were you crying?"

"Yes."

Poor baby. Then I felt bad for her. I reminded her that I have never forgotten her, and that I couldn't just forget her. I also explained to her that someone would always come and get her. We have some special, wonderful, people in our lives that are on the list of those allowed to pick her up. I think there are about five extra names on that list. So, no matter what, someone is coming to get her.

She did, obviously, eventually go to Karate class. The office has a digital frame, and at some point, it flashed to people in Karate uniforms. She instantly remembered she was supposed to be in Karate class. Mind you, the office side windows face the area all the kids had to walk though to get to Karate, and I can't believe she didn't hear them out there, but I have stated before that The Big One lives on a different plain of awareness than the rest of us.

"Did you tell the office staff that you were supposed to be in class?"

"Yes! I told them that I had forgotten you weren't supposed to get me, and I was supposed to be in class."

"What did they say?"

"Go."

I hope the office staff at least got a little chuckle out of it when it was over. I plan on speaking to the teacher in the morning just to make sure everything is cleared up and on future Tuesdays, I think I might send a note pinned to her backpack, or her shirt, just so she won't forgot again.

Papa the Sub

My daughter had a substitute in school again Monday. This time, they couldn't get even the sub that thinks my daughter has "quite the personality". Instead, Lilly comes home telling us all about Papa. You see, that's what he told the kids to call him, because he is a grandfather. No really. He did.

Let me back up for a minute and tell you that first off, they didn't even have a sub for a few hours. In the morning, they split the entire class up and distributed them to other Kindergarten classes. Thankfully, Lilly got into on of the other rooms that I like.

When they finally got someone to sub, they brought all the kids back to their own class, with Papa. Now, I'm not ok with the name. I am glad he has grand kids, but my child isn't one of them. She has no reason be calling her teacher Papa. In fact, I told her that if she was ever in that situation again, she needed to tell the sub that she would like to call him by a more respectful name, ask his (or her) last name, then call them Mr. or Ms. Whatever. I mean, what was wrong with this guy? This isn't story time at the local library, here. This is school.

So, then I ask her, what did you do after you got back to your class.
"Nothing."

Nothing?? Really? Now, I don't know about you, but it has been my experience that if you don't give 5 and 6 year old kids something to do, they will find something, and it won't be what you want. Usually, that means they find and create chaos. Utter chaos. In this case, that is exactly what happened. Their real teacher was back today, even though she is still ill, and she was shocked at the state of the room. She said that there are markers and glue pens everywhere, all with caps off. There is trash, and stuff just thrown all over the room. I feel bad for her. Here she is sick, and this is what she comes back to. A room full of chaos created by 20 5 or 6 year olds, and the 5 or 6 year olds that did it. Man.

After a lot of questions, Lilly did tell us that they sang some songs, and he told them all about how he used to be a Captain in the U.S. Navy. He said he was really worried about who was going to take over his ship when he retired.

Ok.

He didn't end the day well, either. First, there was some nonsense at the end of the day about all the kids being "guilty". I couldn't really understand exactly what seemed to have happened, but I think some of the kids told him that they got out of school earlier than they did. Now, whether they were confused or trying to trick him, I don't know, but he told the kids they were all guilty, even if they were not involved with the trickery.

His final poor judgement call was telling the kids that he wasn't ever going to come back because they were mean to him. According to my daughter, he then proceeded to fake cry.

Actually she said "Then he started to cry, but I think he was faking it because I looked and looked at his eyes, and I didn't see one tear."

You call out that big weird faker, Pook.

I talked to some other parents, and there were other stories. I feel that there is enough to warrant talking to the principal about it. I don't think Papa needs to come back to the class. Maybe he should stick to ships. The ships won't care if he fake cries.

You know, were not doing well with subs this year. So far, 2 out of 3 have had issues, or I have issues with them. Either way, not a good average for San Diego schools, or our kids.

Kiddie Formals

My daughter's elementary school had a formal dance tonight. You read that correctly. I did use the words elementary, school, formal, and dance in the same sentence on purpose. Not only did the school have a formal, but it was for all grades, K-5 together.

Now, please, someone tell me if I am the only parent out there that thinks this is a little on the wrong side. If the dance were a father/daughter type deal for the little ones, I could see that. However, a dance? A formal dance for 5 year olds? Some of those kids may have even just barely turned 5. I just don't get it.

I find the whole thing a bit absurd and even a little vulgar. I know that some of the 5th graders are going as couples, and I think it is totally in appropriate for the school to expose the little ones to that in a dance setting as well. Don't we already over sexualize our children these days, and over expose them to those kinds of things? Why should the school encourage that behaviour?

In fact, when it was planned by the PTO, they intended to have it be a full on chaperoned dance that you could drop your child off at.

The kids bought tickets for the dance. They were to get their pictures taken when they got in, and then they had refreshments. Well, they served the kids hot chocolate and nachos. Again, you read that correctly. They served kids in formal clothes nachos.

I told a friend of mine about it, and that they sold tickets. She pro ceded to ask how much the hotel rooms for after were also. See, she was making the point of how I feel; Five year old children do not need to be at a dance where other kids are going as a couple.

The worst part, though, is that my daughter is the one who gets the raw deal out of it. A lot of her little friends are going. She isn't. All day Friday, she and I kept getting ask if she were going during the pick up and drop off at school. I told her we would do something else special, but of course, she feels left out. I can't tell you how much that upsets me as a parent, to be the one who makes a choice that causes my child to feel left out.

I know that as her parent, I will make decisions that won't be popular with her, and apparently some times even other parents. I have to stick to my gut, though, and my gut says this isn't a good thing. If it starts now, where will it go, and where will it end? I choose to keep her on the straight and narrow path. It may be more difficult, but it leads to a better place. At least, I hope it does.