Category Archives: School

Regular Person

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GrammaJ hung out with the muppets while Jon and I made a quick getaway.

Mid-grandmothering, she received a call from UCLA Medical Center regarding records requested for a school nurse. This would have made perfect sense, given that said school nurse used to work for GrammaJ, except for a glaring contradiction of GrammaJ’s retirement going on year 3. (It was later determined to likely have been a crazy coincidence of a single-digit cell phone discrepancy.) Continue reading

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Mother’s Day Mad Dash

I am a mupit

“You are invited to a very special mother’s day treat,” the invitation read. “The children have been working very hard to prepare a very special treat for you. Please join us to celebrate your day with a morning event meant to honor you.”

I happily RSVP’d that I’d be there. <cue saccharin> What a sweet moment for my precious little boys to show off as their inaugural elementary year rapidly began to rush toward its close.

I rolled up to the school and immediately spotted a hoard of mothers milling around outside the two adjoining portable classrooms comprising our suburban kindergartens. Inside, I have no doubt frazzled underpaid teachers were rushing around trying to coral 6-year-olds wild with the excitement from a change in schedule.

It was at this point that full realization set in. This was not a combined grade-level effort – such as the spring concert we’d enjoyed by the full kinder component earlier in the week. This was individual classes creating their own individual programs.

My twin boys were in separate classrooms.

Competing attentions. I straddled the playground lines between classes and did some pre-game warm-ups. I was about to attempt to attend both programs at the same time. Running shoes ready.

I entered Search’s classroom first. Each child would come to the door and greet his or her mother and escort her to a table-clothed seat with prime viewing of the class performance.

Search stood stock-still in his corner. He did not move. Although I did see the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile when he saw me. I found my own way to a seat, considering this a great improvement from the last split-screen attempt – the first day of school.

The day kindergarten started, I’d started in Destroy’s class before running over to wish Search well. The end result was me trying to escape Search’s class without him fleeing behind me. Shout out to the nice mom who took pity on my little man and guided a sobbing Search in with her own son. (Trivia: said son is now Search’s BFF.)

Singing in rounds (unintentionally), Search’s class performed a rousing rendition of “She’s Got the Whole World in Her Hands.” Search remained in his stock-still stance; artistic performance is not his thing. I maintained eye contact and cheered wildly anyway.

At the conclusion of the first act, I stood from the tiny tot table, and darted out of the classroom. The whole classroom turned to look at me as Search called out, “Hey! We’re not done yet!”

“I’ll be right back! I’ve got to go see brother,” I mouthed while gesticulating frantically toward the classroom next door.

I tiptoed into Destroy’s classroom completely unnoticed. At least until Destroy spotted me and called everyone to attention by interrupting his teacher and shouting, “Hey! My mom showed up!”

I took my seat and enjoyed a poem and song before running back to the first classroom.

My plan to inconspicuously dart between performances was then officially crushed. Search’s classroom door was shut. And locked.

I had to knock. “Hey! It’s me, the mom trying to not be noticed. Can you let me back in to the private performance?”

Later I tried closing the door oh-so-gently, so that it wouldn’t latch.

Nope.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Upon my later return to Destroy’s class, my little muppet looked up at me as I poorly navigated the mini-mite size table and chairs, “We made a special snack of cookie and strawberries for the mommies. But I saved you a strawberry. Now can I read you my card?”

He smiled adorably while wiping his mouth of crumbs from the long vanquished cookie, left too long alone in my absence.

Destroy picked up his hand-drawn “I Love My Mommy” picture book and began to read.

The best thing about my mom is…that she loves me.
I like it best when my mom…is happy.
My mom thinks I am…a [muppet].

Out of the mouths of babes – although I do suppose it came out of my mouth first.

I guess they do pay attention.

 

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From the FAQ

I love that you call them the muppets. How did you come up with that?
Several hours before their imminent arrival, as medical personnel scurried about prepping an OR, Jon posted a cryptic status update on Facebook. “It’s time to play the music/It’s time to light the lights/It’s time to meet the Muppets on the Muppet Show tonight!” It stuck.

Which muppets do they remind you of?
Now that they’re big giant babies, they seem to personify Kermit and Fozzie Bear. Search is thoughtful and takes everything in around him. Destroy is his happy-go-lucky best friend and constantly cracking jokes that no one can understand as of yet. As tiny little guys in the NICU, with their preemie pattern baldness, they were eerily similar to Statler and Waldorf – the cranky old men up in the balcony.

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Lockdown Comprehension: A Review

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Scene: After school discussing the active shooter lockdown “Run, Hide and Defend Drill” at the elementary school. Continue reading

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Only Slightly Concussed, Again

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The phone rang.

I knew that number. It was the muppets’ elementary school. There was nothing good that could come of this in the middle of the day. Continue reading

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School’s Back in Session: May the Odds be Ever in Your Favor

Picture is worth 1,000 words.

Picture is worth 1,000 words.

Kindergarten. Appearing as adorable tiny tots to those who have been there, done that, and a momentous milestone for parents who once thought they’d have to grant NICU privileges to a high school math tutor.

No longer in daycare or preschool. This is the show. This is elementary school. Continue reading

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Kindergarten Registration

Kindergarten Starts

This morning I sat at Starbucks contemplating how quickly time passes. I was waiting for a 10:30 a.m. appointment to register my tiny boys for kindergarten. The first three months of their little lives were by far the longest days of my three decades. And yet, the following four and a half years have rushed by like there is no tomorrow. Continue reading

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All That Glitters is Not Gold

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Last week, Jon picked the boys up from school. As it was the first week back after the holiday, a thick packet of projects was sent home along with hyperactive preschoolers.

All of the crafts created during the days leading up to a festive Christmas holiday. Do you know what makes projects “festive”? Sparkle: a luminous twinkle that can only be achieved via copious amounts of glitter.

Jon gathered the boys, their lunch bags, and a pile more than 4-inches thick of multi-colored reflective craft particles. They strode to the car, depositing a trail for Hansel and Gretel to follow back to class, as the bright and shimmering colored construction papers spewed their glitter-soaked entrails along the previously trodden path.

My trio of boys loaded their goods into the car, transforming our Ford Escape into the black hole escape for the remnants of an exploded solar disco ball.

Search: Can we hang my snowman on the frigerator?

Jon: <Desperately searching for way to avoid glitter bombing the house.> You’ll have to ask your mother.

Search: Why?

Jon: <Deciding best way to diffuse the situation is to punt the question.> Well, in any successful incident command system, different people run the varying components of standard process and procedures. I handle logistics and operations. Your mom’s in charge of planning and finance.

Search: <very long pause> Mine’s got gold glitter!

Search is apparently running the decorative piece of this operation.

But just so we’re clear, all that glitters is not gold. It is also silver, blue, purple, red, and green.

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