Box Tops Baby!

It is time for the first Box Tops contest of the year. I just spent the last 25 minutes taping them to photocopied handouts complete with the required Halloween theme.

I had some hard decisions to make. How many would I send in with each kid? The Little Lady is in kindergarten, the class seemed to have a lot of first time elementary school parents, not sure they have been saving the Box Tops. The Lady however told me how many Box Tops her class already has, her teacher keeps count on the white board. Have I mentioned how much I like her teacher?

I think we know where most of them are going.

Now, I have to be fair and send some in with the Little Lady. The handout that came home said something about "If each child just sent in 40 Box Tops. . ." so I went with that number. The Little Lady has 40 Box Tops in her bag. The Lady, well her crazy Box Top-mom is sending her in with 180. Her classroom total so far? 164.

That is right. I am more than doubling that number. There better be some hot chocolate in the Lady's future. The best thing about it is that the contest doesn't end for another two weeks. I can see where the Lady's class sends and then scavenge around my pantry for any labels I may have missed.

Will keep you updated of course.

The One Where I Tried to Volunteer

"I volunteer, I volunteer as tribute"

Well not tribute, but elementary school volunteer and really isn't that pretty much the same thing?

You are out there in the unknown, challenges at every turn, bake sale, book fair, something called "Family Fun Night," which I definitely signed up for in that fog of first day excitement, but was smart enough not to reply to the email from the PTO member about taking on the challenge of co-chair.

I am walking blind into these event, I don't know where anything is at the school and I don't know who anyone is. However, I am ever grateful that the one sponsor who always shows up at these events is Dunkin Donuts and that he is always offering me something from his Box O'Joe.

Last week, after I dropped the Little Lady off for her first day, I got in Minnie-Ru and headed over to the book fair at the Lady's school to volunteer. Could I have been home spending time with QT or doing something around the house? Yes. Was I? No, but I was able to listen to my own songs in the car.

After I finally was able to figure out how to buzz into the school (when the office buzzes back--you better be opening that door), and found the gym, my job at the book fair was to walk aimlessly around watching kids write down the names of the books that they wanted their parents to buy for them on Back to School Night. My role was to help anyone who needed it, which weren't too many considering that most of the classes that came in were 4th and 5th grade. I was also forced to tell a very sweet 5th grade boy, after a fairly exhaustive search on my part that I did not think that there were any Judy Blume books. Not quite a Katniss/Rue moment, but close.

Are you there God? It's me, Bean, and this is torture. 

I did meet one very nice woman who was also volunteering. Both of her children were in school, so not only was she covering the same 9-11 shift that I was, she was also going to be coming back in the afternoon to cover more hours. What? More hours of watching kids write down books about Justin Beiber and wrestling while bypassing actual books that were worth reading, didn't seem like how I would want to pass my afternoon, but then I started to feel guilty about not volunteering enough. Should I do more hours? Should I come back the next day? I am trying to join a community here, maybe I should just quit my job, chair the PTO and become the queen of book fairs. What is more important than kids and books? That's right. Nothing, except the new fall TV line up and free iced coffee days at Dunkies. 

But then reigned it in. I showed up. I helped a few kids spell some things and check prices. I did take some time to write down the names of books that I wanted to get for my kids, knowing full well that "Barbie, The Princess and the Popstar" would be high on the Lady's list.

Finally, it was over. I had survived. The other woman gave me her email and told me that she would be more than happy to unload all of her Curious George books off on me and QT, I smiled politely and made a beeline for the door. As I was leaving, I passed the Lady on her way to the cafeteria and in that one little moment, I realized it was totally worth it to have shown up.

Fast forward to last night where I got stuck at work, had to pick up my husband and the kids and head over to the Back to School Family Picnic, where I was supposed to man the bake sale from 5:30-6.

After winning some tickets

The Lady got her face painted and a few tickets

We showed up at 5:45. I rushed over to the table where the other volunteer told me not to worry about it, that she "hadn't given anything back to the school yet this year" and to go "find your people and enjoy." For a moment I felt guilty, like I should run behind that table and sell sweets to elementary school kids, but then I let it go. I made it there. The Ladies and QT were more than happy to participate in some of the events and I was just as happy to participate with them.

There will be more volunteer opportunities coming up. I know, I keep on getting emails reminding me that I signed up. I will say one thing though to all the volunteers who's hard work and planning really did make for a great event last night, do not, I repeat, do not buy whistles for prizes. I don't care what sale you found at Party City, those whistles were a relentless assault on my evening. A scary foreshadowing of what I can only imagine a 4th grade recorder concert might sound like. My ears are still ringing. What kind of mother would think that giving 100+ elementary school kids whistles is a good idea?

Maybe I should get on this PTO. I have ideas. . .

The Lady Starts Kindergarten

If any of you follow me on Twitter, are friends with me on my personal fb page, or if you saw the photo of the Lady on the Three Bean fb page yesterday, you know that the Lady has started kindergarten.

Deep breaths Bean. Deep breaths.

On the bus for kindergarten orientation

Yesterday was kindergarten orientation. My husband and I rode with the Lady on the bus, we were able to bring her to her classroom, we met the teacher, we had a Q&A, we sized up the other students, checked out where the bathrooms were and tried to get the Lady and ourselves acclimated to elementary school.






It was a great day. We left there feeling positive and not at all echoing the sentiments of one of the Lady's new classmates, who blurted out when they were all sitting down for circle time "This is the worst class ever."

With the school mascot

Fast forward to this morning.

Waiting for the bus on the official first day

We weren't riding the bus.

There wasn't going to be two kindergartners and three parents on the bus.

There were at least 10 kids at the bus stop.

The Lady was nervous.

Looking kind of nervous

I was nervous.

The bus pulled up. It was pretty full.

The Lady got on. There were no seats until the back of the bus.

The bus started to move before she was seated.

I started crying.

The babysitter started crying.

I got in Minnie-Ru and headed towards the school.

After sitting in a bit of back-to-school traffic and driving behind an incredibly slow blue Nissan Altima, I finally pulled into the Lady's school. The place was packed. I inched my way down the long line of cars and as I pulled into a packed parking lot, I saw the Lady getting off the bus and running through the rain.

I had a moment of panic because I wasn't sure if she would know where to go and I was too far away to get to her.

I finally found a parking spot. I grabbed the raincoat she "forgot" and headed into the school.

There were people and backpacks everywhere.

I found her classroom.

She was sitting in her seat, coloring a rainbow.

I kissed her once. I hung her raincoat. I kissed her again.

I walked away.

I then bought one of those car magnets that says her school's name. I also perused page after page of sign-up sheets that lined the table outside of the entrance. I was surprised how many times I found my name. Yesterday, in my quest to be as involved as I could be in the Lady's school, I pretty much signed up for any event that said it was ideal for working parents. I have no idea what these events are or when they may occur, but I will be there, for the Lady.

Kindergarten. . . Krazy

Sorry for the use of the double K's in the title. I was momentarily moved to see what my life would be like as a Kardashian, except without the buckets of makeup, the "upscale" Forever 21 wardrobe and the extreme over sharing. (What? I said extreme over sharing, you won't see any at home bikini waxes on this blog--although you might hear about them. . .) Not to worry though, I will still maintain the fat ass.

Anyway, this post has nothing to do with Reality TV mega stars (although reports say their image might be tarnishing) or alliteration.

It has to do with kindergarten, more specifically, the Lady going to kindergarten in the fall.

Last night I had to attend a kindergarten meeting. Now this wasn't any ordinary kindergarten meeting, this was a meeting at a magnet school to fill out some paperwork that would put you in a lottery, with the hopes of getting one of 100 open spots available at this particular school.

Wait there is more. . .

Students are selected based upon their lottery number and group membership according to the following order:

1. Students residing on streets assigned to the magnet school.
2. Students with a sibling who will be attendance in the magnet school.
3. Students residing on streets with preferred admission status to the magnet school.
4. Students assigned to non magnet schools that may be targeted for admission to the magnet schools.
5. All other students. 

We are "all other students," despite living less than a mile from the school and being surrounded on all sides by streets assigned to the magnet school.

Confused yet? Me too, and yes, this is a public school.

The parking lot was packed. I had to park illegally behind the school and walk through the playground wood chips in my high heel boots in order to even get into this meeting. Then you had to wait on line to pick up the paperwork, go into the auditorium for the intro lecture from the principal, before finally breaking up into small groups to take a tour of the school. Phew.

I will say that this school is beautiful. It is a new facility only a couple of years old, it is certified "green" and is part of the International Baccalaureate school program. Everything is shiny and new and the Lady can take one of three languages starting in kindergarten. In my heart of hearts I hope she would choose Mandarin because I am such a fan of Ni Hao Kai-Lan and Chinese fire drills.

But alas, I am getting ahead of myself. It was hard not to be impressed with this school because of all the bells and whistles, and I certainly don't want to be seduced by those things again (hardwood floors! granite counter tops! stainless steel appliances!) but it is hard not to picture the Lady in an environment where she wouldn't go wanting. I mean don't we all want the best for our kids?

I will say that I would have applied to this school even when it was in its old location, which was a mere two blocks behind our house because that just seems to make sense. What doesn't make sense is why we aren't districted for the school now, even though we were just a few short years ago when I could see the kids on the field playing and I could hear the bell ringing through open windows on sunny days. I mean the school only moved about a 1/2 mile up the hill.

Ugh.

The worst part about it is that I think that their program has a lot of techniques that would benefit the Lady. This is a girl who had a bit of an adjustment moving from the 3's into the 4's this year and who still talks about her old classroom. At this school they loop the classes so she will go to first grade with the same kids and the same teacher. Yes, I realize that if the teacher sucks or there are some disruptive kids that might not be such a great thing, but for the Lady to take that unknown aspect out of the equation will go a long way to making sure she is comfortable and less shy.

I know that if she doesn't get in it won't be the worst thing. The school we are districted for is a good one (although it is a 15 minute car ride across town, not sure how long that will translate on a bus) and I know that I will try to be as involved in her education as I can.

I also know enough family and friends who are teachers, and who work everywhere from the NYC Public schools to an all girls private school (that costs upwards of $35,000 a year for elementary school), to know that regardless of what the building looks like or the amenities inside (amazing computer room! a separate cafeteria, gym and auditorium!) that it is really the people inside those schools who make the difference, and who will make a difference in the Lady's life.

Still . . . the playground was krazy kool.

After the quick tour we were herded back into the auditorium, I listened to the principal answer some questions then got on another long line to finally get the application stamped and submitted.

That stamp struck the paper, like a judges gavel, leaving its red mark behind and I walked out into the cold, dark night, my heels clicking on the sidewalk before sinking slowly into the dirt beneath my feet as I made my way past the smart classrooms and beneath the shadows of the playground equipment looming above, hoping that maybe tonight, maybe this year, maybe. . . it will all work out all right.  

So here's to hoping this lottery doesn't turn out like Shirley Jackson's and that the Lady will love to learn wherever she goes.