Kindergarten

Do you ever have those moments when you think - I am a mom? How and when did this happen? You mean the little rug rats grabbing at me right now and calling me "mommy" are mine?!!!

Although I have been a mom for more than 6 years now - I still feel pretty new at this job and often feel intimidated by other moms who seem to have it all down.

I had another one of these "mom" attacks last week when I had to get Halle signed up for Kindergarten.

[Rewind] If you know me you know that kindergarten has been a sore issue with me for the past two years. Why? Because Chad has been going to kindergarten for the past two years. He was blessed with a very late summer birthday (August 23), being a boy, and being the eldest. All qualities the "experts" say qualify him to red-shirt his first year of kindergarten and go when he is a little more "mature."

Chris came from a family where they planned all of their children to be born in the fall so they would have late birthdays and be the older ones in their classes.

I was born in a family with an English mother. In England you rotate into school during the semester when you are 4 1/2. I have a fall birthday and my mother couldn't handle the thought that I wouldn't be starting school until I was almost 6 - and not even real school - half day kindergarten. So she fought with the school board and had me enter kindergarten early at age 4.

So because of our different backgrounds and experiences we could not decide (not come to a mutual decision) about when Chad should start kindergarten. The compromise we came up with was to send Chad to a private kindergarten and then to see how he did - to then again decide if he should do kindergarten again or venture into first grade. He did do fairly well - but was still so in the middle that we decided on doing kindergarten again.

Any how - the whole point of rehashing my negative issues - is that all of a sudden my oldest child was really ready for school. I got to go through the starting of kindergarten twice.

[Fast Forward] Now all of a sudden, my second oldest will now be going to kindergarten and taking the bus to school next year. It is almost too much for my little mommy heart and mind to handle. My kids are getting so grown up on me. Time really does pass so quickly by. Chad will be in first grade, Halle in kindergarten, and Sean will go from toddler to little boy when he starts preschool next year.

It hardly seems possible that my kids can be this old - I still remember kindergarten so well. And in case you are needing a good laugh I thought I would share with you some of my stories from kindergarten.

Shots

As I took Halle to get her immunizations the other day - I told her how brave she was, not at all like her mother. When I got my shots, they did some in my leg and some in my arm. I remember the nurse swabbing my arm with cold alcohol and then telling me to hold still. Then I remember the needle (the BIG, SHARP needle) getting closer, and closer, and closer. I almost couldn't stand it - all the bundled up anticipation of the pain I was about to receive. As soon as the needle punctured my skin my nervous energy let loose. I jumped off the patient bed and starting running around the room and howling like a lunatic. The needle was still in my arm and in my mind I can still see it quickly swaying from side to side as I tried to frantically shake it away from my body. My mom and the nurse finally caught me and pinned me down, got the medicine administered, and then the needle was finally withdrawn from my arm. (And I wonder where my kids get their energy from!)

Why I Am Not an Opera Singer

One day my mother was watching an opera on TV. I was pretty captivated by the costumes and especially the shrill and highly vibrato voices. I tried to sing with them and remember singing myself to sleep that night. The next day I was still pretty obsessed with being able to sing like the opera singers I had heard on TV. As I got to school that was all I could think about - I couldn't wait for recess so I could practice some more. As the day to day mundane routine of kindergarten progressed I got more fixated on being able to sing. I was so fidgety that I could hardly stand it. Finally it was time for play stations. While everyone else went to the different stations (blocks, beauty parlor, house, play dough, etc.) I positioned myself in the middle of the room. I stood tall and straight and slowly inhaled as much air as I could. Then from the top of my lungs I let out the biggest high-pitched melodious (or malodious to be more correct) sound with all the strength my little 5 year old body could muster. I immediately had everyone's undivided attention - especially my teacher's. I don't remember too much after that except that I was not allowed out for recess and that I never again had a desire to sing in public.

Solution for Over-Curly Hair

My mother loved to curl my hair. She would often put those fluffy pink rollers in my hair at night so my hair would be curly in the morning. She would especially do this on Saturday nights so my hair could be pretty for Sunday. Any how, one Sunday my mother had just taken out my curlers but not yet brushed my hair. She was busy trying to get everyone else ready so I decided to help her out by doing it myself. As I tried to brush my hair I got frustrated that the brush wouldn't easily glide down my hair like it usually did when it was straight. The more I tried the more frustrated I got. I told my mom the dilemma and she answered with the usual mommy reply, "I'll be there in a minute."

While I was waiting for the "minute" to arrive a flash of light went off in my head. I had a great solution to my problem - I would just eliminate the problematic curls. I opened my desk drawer and reached in to grab my "Goofy" safety scissors (you know, the kind without a sharp point and can barely cut paper). And then I started chopping away. First this curl, then that. I would show my hair who was boss! I had cut away a good portion of one side of my head when I heard my mother's voice. "Lara, where are you? I can brush your hair now." At the sound of that voice all reason came back to me and I flushed bright red at realizing what I had done. I quickly hid under the bed - coming up with some excuse about needing to find something that had gotten stuck under there.

I was so panicked. I knew my mom would kill me when she had seen what I had done. Finally it was time to go to church. We lived just a few blocks away and always walked. So again, with the rationalization of a 5 year old, I thought that if I just walked backward, my mother would never be able to tell what had happened. (You know - just like when you close your eyes, no one can see you!)

It seemed like it was working. I made it all the way down one street, had crossed the road and was just walking past the park when my mother started starring at me. She just kept starring and starring. Then slowly she stopped walking and her mouth was agape. Then she just started crying. That was the worst!!! I had made my mother cry - that was much more horrible than her being mad at me.

I don't remember what else happened at church - but I do remember the next day back at school that I still insisted on walking backward all the time so people wouldn't notice my hair so much. (May that is what I need to do with my current situation - I'll just walk backward and keep my eyes closed - and no one will notice me.)

My kindergarten picture - before the haircut.

Chad's kindergarten picture.

Halle age 4 and ready for kindergarten next year.