He Knows What He Likes

This whole Being in Kindergarten thing seems to be sticking. The days are being met with good humor, and first homework assignments have been (unsurprisingly) tackled with vim and vigor. The beginning of the year has not been totally without its challenges – Noah’s teacher missed the first three days of school because her mother was very ill, and about four days after that her mother passed away, meaning she was absent all this week as well. The teacher’s assistant in the class is great, and she has been the one constant, but there have been several different substitute teachers thrown at the class, and for five-year-old kids in their very first weeks of public education, that’s no small thing. But Noah barely even mentions it. He’s more interested in telling me who he played with and who got in trouble. “Most of the class was green today, Mom. But Nick spent all day on yellow! And then after lunch…..” He trails off, and then whispers seriously, “He got on red.” Once I asked where you went after red, but he couldn’t tell me. My guess is the clink. Kindergarten teachers are no JOKE, y’all.

For the first five or six days of school, I packed Noah a lunch until I had a better handle on the cafeteria situation, and every day, per request, I packed a turkey sandwich. The day before Noah started eating the school’s fare, we pored over the menu and talked about what he might like, and what might be new or different, just to get him more comfortable with being served lunch somewhere else and the (oh so yummy and delightful!) surprises that might entail. I was glad that eating at school meant a different option every day so that he wouldn’t just be eating the same old same old from home. What I didn’t realize is that the kids are given a choice of hot or cold lunch every day. (Also, their choice of milk. And this is where it all starts – they get their first taste of autonomy, and it tastes OH SO SWEET AND CHOCOLATY. Next thing you know, they’re dying their hair blue and calling you by your first name.) Every single day since I stopped packing his lunch Noah has chosen the cold lunch, and I am sure, since most of you are keener than I when it comes to objective observation of my kids, that you are not as surprised as I was to discover that the main course of the cold lunch is a turkey sandwich.

Also, his new Kindergarten classmate BFF? Is named Noah. Of course he is.

Lessons For Future Relations

Rosie has started carrying around a small team of compadres (a.k.a. plastic Candy Land pieces) whom she refers to as her “boys.”  She poses long babbly questions to them that usually end with an inquiry about whether or not they are going to “Go in nair?” And then answers for them, since they’re plastic Candy Land pieces.  “Yeah! Go in nair!”  And then they go in nair.

Sometimes they commit some sort of punishable offense (this is my educated guess), and have to Goin’ TAHM OUT. “No MA’AM,” Rosie tells the boys, lining them up against the wall. “Two minutes!” Then she walks over to me with a sober look. “Mama. Boys in Tahm Out.” I nod grimly, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. Later, she lays them on a box and covers them with a washcloth. “Go nigh-night, boys. Rub back. Go nigh-night.”

So loving, and yet so firm in her discipline. That’s my girl. You keep those boys in line. Being cute is no excuse for bad behavior.

Random, But Heartfelt

Seriously, if you live near me: come to the show!  Everyone has worked really hard to make it a success, including my own two kids, who are the only people I’ve got around during the day to run lines with. Their commitment to the moment is astounding, you guys. And you should see them do the Wu Tang Clan sketch! Noah kills as Method Man, and it’s like Rosie is straight channeling ODB. Everyone’s dedication has paid off, too – the show is hilARious, and totally worth ten bucks and an hour and a half of your time next Thursday or Friday. Do it. Come out. You know you want to.

WU TANG FOREVER.