Validation

I know there are a lot of people out there who want their children to grow up to be doctors or lawyers or sports stars or just plain old millionaires.  I want my kids to grow up to be happy.  Content.  And not the kind of content that amounts to getting high in someone's basement but the sort of contentment that comes from knowing that they are living their life to the fullest, making the most of their days.  There are really only two things I don't want my children to become: screw ups and the kind of successful adults who sit around and say "I became all this IN SPITE OF how my parents raised me."

The thing with parenting is that 90% of us try to do our best but we never know the fruits of our labor until our children are grown.  And even then it's not always a true reflection on our parenting.  I've known some awesome, kick ass parents who have raised absolute tremendous losers.  And I've known some super shitty, bottom of the barrell type of moms and dads who have churned out cream of the crop kids.  You just never know.

For the 90% of us who are trying to do our best by our children, receiving a little bit of validation every now and then is pretty much the best feeling in the world.  Even if your kid is only five and you still have decades left to screw up his life.

I'm going to sound like a bragging asshole the remainder of this post.  And since I'm already going to sound so assholeish, let me just go on 'head and throw out this gem from Bob Carlisle in Butterfly Kisses: "for all that I've done wrong, I must've done something right."  Isn't that an insanely awesome feeling?  For knowing everything we do wrong . . . in life, in parenting, whatever . . . to have that moment where we know, we have validation, that we did something right, it feels amazing.

I received this kind of validation the other day.  And I totally had a Moment.  Right there in Jaidan's kindergarten class, sitting in a tiny five-year-old sized chair with my knees nearly up to my chin.

You see, Jaidan never went to preschool.  PreK isn't free here and I . . . just . . . couldn't . . . send my kid to preschool when I could do the very same thing right here, at home, for free.  It would've been different if I wasn't home all day.  But I was (am) and paying someone to do what *I* could do just wasn't going to happen.  So when Jaidan began kindergarten, everything he knew was due to . . . me.  That's kind of scary, y'all.  I had every faith in my abilities to prepare him for kindergarten.  BUT there was still that lingering doubt.
At parent teacher conference the other night, Jaidan's teacher went over his beginning of the year testing.  This was the testing done before he even made it into her classroom.  He was exceeding standards in everything.  Everything!  Several times she told me "he came to me this way" and several times I thought I was going to burst into a great big old Farrah style ugly cry right there in the classroom (I might have been a little hormonal.  Just a little).  Nothing - nothing -beats being told you've done right by your kid.  Nothing.  I won't lie to you.  I'm proud of me!  I am !  I'm proud!
But I'm a thousand times more proud of my kid.  He is well behaved in class, loves to learn, and when he's in the classroom he's not in play mode, he's in learn mode.  And that made this Mama's chest swell up with pride.  I know this is only kindergarten and we have a long road ahead of us.  Right now we're dealing with beginning sounds and learning to read.  What lays ahead is scary -- algebra and foreign language and chemistry and I don't even want to think about it.  But, here, in the now, I'm going to soak up this small victory.

And smile when I see my boy so happy to go off to school.  And smile when I see his homework papers with "good job" and "way to go" written on them.  And smile when he comes home rattling off about everything he learned during the day.  And smile when I catch him in his sister's bed at night sounding out the words in books, trying his hardest to read.

For all that I've done wrong, I must've done something right! 

They Really Need a Parental Dress Code and Other Observations from the Mother of a First Timer

I used to work at a school.  Well,  I worked the after school program but I also some times did substitute teaching.  So I obviously didn't know about everything when it came to the inner-workings of the school system but I did know a lot.  Like, for instance, teachers gossip.  A lot.  I'm talking the lounge is like the popular girl's lunch table in the junior high school.  When Jaidan was getting ready to go to school I was all, "For the love! PLEASE be good.  Be good for your teacher and be good NO MATTER WHERE YOU ARE IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE SCHOOL.  Because, dude, the future of all Walker children in this school depends on YOU and how YOU act THIS year.  Even the FIFTH GRADE teachers are watching and they're not going to want you or your brother or your sister in their class if you're a straight up asshole."

Anyway.  This is my first year having a child in school so this is the first time I've really seen, paid attention to, whatever the whole parent angle of it.  And, people.  Lard.

Some observations:

1) When are they going to come up with a dress code for what you can wear to take your kids to school?  I'm not talking about dropping them off where you sit, all nice and cool in the AC of your overpriced, gas-guzzling SUV.  If you stay in the car, then I could care less if you take them to school naked.  Your perogative.  But these people who walk their kids to school or, at least, get out of the car and walk the kid into the building -- they are the ones I'm talking about.  I've seen more booty shorts in the past three weeks than I ever thought possible.  Which also means I've seen miles of cellulite.  Dimples might be cute on your kindergartener.  The ones on your legs?  Notsocute.  (I feel like I can speak like this because I too have cellulite.  My cellulite has cellulite.  But.  Know what?  I COVER THAT SHIT UP WHEN I TAKE MY KID TO SCHOOL).  If you want to roll out of bed and walk your kid to school in your PJ's then START SLEEPING IN YOGA PANTS. 

At the total other end of the "booty shorts" spectrum are these parents who kind of . . . dress up . . . to take their kids to school.  It's one thing if they're going to work after drop off.  But, some of these, well they aren't wearing those get ups to work unless they're swinging on a pole.  And, in that case, I'm doubtful they'll be invited to career day.  I guess I never realized that elementary school drop off could be considered a meat market which is what some of these parents seem to have in mind.  Welcome to Memphis, ya'll.

I never thought I would feel both overdressed AND underdressed by sporting my yoga-pants-and-tank-top uniform.

2) Dads are WAY more involved than they were when I was in school.  Way.  Now, my dad went to many a parent teacher conference and was involved in that way.  But these days dads are doing things like going into a work a little late to see their kids off on their first day of school.  On J's first day of school, there were just five kids in the class when we got there and FOUR dads -- two of them with fancy cameras out to snap pictures of their little ones.  Drop off and pick up is pretty much a 50/50 split between moms and dads.  The kindergarten meeting we went to a couple weeks ago, there were just as many dads there as moms.  I'm not trying to sound like I'm stereotyping dads as being the more hands-off parents.  I'm just saying they are more active than they were when I was in school.  And I think it.is.awesome.

3) Some of these dads are hot.

4) A dad wearing his younger child in a baby carrier while walking older child to school is automatically ten times hotter.  *Fans self*

Okay.  So maybe I didn't have a ton of observations to share.  And maybe I really just wanted to rant about all the booty shorts I've seen the past few weeks.  And maybe I wanted to talk just a little bit about the hottie dads.  But, there you have it, just a few observations about the Elementary School Parent from a brand new Elementary School Parent.  I'm sure there will be many, many, many more to come.

He's My Kid and I Can Make a Big Fat Deal out of Kindergarten if I Want To!

I want my kid to like school. 

I could give you a whole list of reasons I decided to make a Big Fat Deal out of him going to kindergarten but it really comes down to that one little fact: I want him to like school.

It's not all up to me and I get that.  I know there are other factors involved.  Maybe he'll draw an unlucky hand with his very first teacher.  Maybe the classroom will be overcrowded and he won't do well with a bunch of other kids.  Maybe this, maybe that.  Anything could happen.  But.  My attitude has a lot to do with it too.  I figure you can't go wrong by making a Big Fat Deal out of kindergarten. 

So.  That said, here's how we made a BFD out of KG.

1) I totally ripped off an idea I found on Pinterest.  The idea was for a "Back to School Fairy" that leaves a special gift before school begins.  I was pretty sure my Spiderman-Batman-Iron Man loving boy wouldn't be too keen on the idea of getting a gift from a fairy.  But I knew he'd totally appreciate a little something from a superhero.  I found a stock image of a generic superhero and the "Kindergarten Crew" wrote Jaidan a note and left him a little gift.

(Almost) everything came from Dollar Tree and I spent less than $5.  He got a package of Smarties (the tag reads "Good Luck Smartie Pants"), stackable crayons, a water gun, a puzzle, granola bars, and a water bottle.  And, yeah, that's totes a Birthday bag.  Recycle, bitches!



I also included Jaidan's "kindergarten binder" in the bag.  The binder has a couple of "about me" sheets that tell his favorite things -- I thought that would be fun to look back on at the end of kindergarten, to see how much his interests have changed.  We'll also include in the binder different fun things he does through out the year.  He may not appreciate it now but maybe - possibly? - he will when he gets older.  This depends, of course, on me actually keeping up with it.  We'll see.

2) We partied!

His first day of school, Jaidan came home to a "First Day of School Party."  We decorated with homemade signs and balloons, made him a cake, and - oh yeah - we busted out a can of silly string!

I hope I can do a special "first day" dessert every single year on the first day of school.  But I figure the very very first day deserves a PARTY.  He is never again going to have a very first ever day of school.  Might as well make it as special as possible.

3) We had a special dinner.

The dinner was actually for two reasons: dude was a rockstar getting his vaxes needed to start school and he, you know, started school.  I told him he could pick anything he wanted for dinner - meaning "pick something for me to cook that night" but he wouldn't budge from wanting Buffalo Wild Wings.  So Thursday night, the whole family went out to dinner and celebrated Jaidan's first day of school.

That's it in a nutshell: out Big Fat Deal out of kindergarten. Here's hoping it was a kick off to a great and amazing school career!

I will take your Competimommy Lunch Bullcrap and Raise you by one MYKID IS BETTER THAN YOUR KID ANYWAY SO HE CAN EAT CRAP IF HE WANTS TO

I wish I could lie to you all right now and say something like, "I totally had not thought about it until a few minutes ago but, oh em gee!!!!, I have to pack a school lunch this year."  Believe me.  I have thought about the school lunch thing.  Because apparently, ya'll, the Art of the Packed Lunch is the latest event in the Competimommy Olympics.  It's all over Pinterest.  And it is ri-expletive-diculous.

I read on a blog the other day - I blog I actually like and don't just read for snark factor! - where the author said something along the lines of, "preparing lunch is one of the most important thingamajigs about getting ready for school."  (Totes paraphrased).  Exsqueeze me very much?  I love food.  Probably more than the average bear.  But I kind of tend to think filling their minds is more important than filling their tummies with butterfly shaped sandwiches and organic beet paste.  (Is beet paste even real?  Cause I totally made it up).

I get it that my generation is a bunch of Fattie McFatFats who inhaled twinkies and lived off of packed lunches that contained my bologna has a first name . . .   But it's like so many people have gotten to the point that they want better for their own children that they - I'm assuming - spend way too much time (not to mention money) on lunch.  LUNCH.  There comes a point where you gotta ask -- is it for the kid?  Or is to look better in the eyes of the fellow competimommies who are, hello, NOT EVEN IN THE CAFETERIA?  Do you really think little Makayla is going to run home and give a full report on what kind of organic crap Tyler was shoveling into his pie hole in the cafeteria?  No.  Because Tyler is going to try to broker a trade for someone else's corndog and Jello.

Even though I don't (okay, okay -- try not to) buy into the competimommy bologna, I'm still stressing a little over lunches. For starters, I know my kid is an asshole when he has too much processed foods, a detail it would be nice to keep under wraps from his teacher until at least September. Then you add in the whole fact that you have to pack something that'll keep in the lunchbox. Oh, and he's in kindergarten. So they'll probably eat lunch at, like, 8:45 in the morning and therefore he needs enough grub to sustain him until he gets home at 3:00. If ya think the kid's a little shit when he eats too much processed junk, try being around him when he's hungry ...

Luckily, this is my child who'll eat just about anything. Next year when it's Kyan who is in school I'll really be in trouble considering the kid doesn't like anything unless it starts with "hot" and ends with "dog." I let Jaidan pick out some lunch goodies the other day and he chose .... hummus, carrots, and celery. The only thing he wanted that would make the organimommy raise a (perfectly arched) eyebrow was Gogurt. This mom can deal. It's not like I really expected him to take a lunchbox full of alfalfa sprouts and tofu burgers (again, are tofu burgers real?). I'd have chosen the Hostess cupcakes myself.

I realize I'm obsessing much - I get that, I'm beginning to annoy myself - but, ya'll, why didn't anyone tell me this kindergarten stuff would be so HARD?  We spent his college fund just in school supplies and uniforms.  There's this whole lunch thing.  There are my overwhelming worries that he's going to tell all of our (embarrassing) business to his teacher (belive me, ya'll, I used to work with kids.  And guess what?  If your kids happen to know that you and Daddy took a shower together that morning, they can't WAIT to blab it to their entire class), that he's going to call someone an "asshole," that he's going to stick a crayone in his ear during naptime, that he's going to be THAT kid who eats glue.  I know that there will be tears (mine) when I take him to school for the first time tomorrow.  But you know what?  I'm to the point that I'm ready to just get.it.over.with.  I know the kid is going to be fine in kindergarten (please don't call anyone an asshole, please don't call anyone an asshole, please don't call anyone an asshole) but the way I'm stressing over lunches and the competimommies?  And I still have TWO MORE kids to put through kindergarten?  I might not survive!

HE IS MY BABY

So two weeks ago I had a baby.

And now, all the sudden, he's five (and a half!) and he watches "big kid" television shows and he can play outside without me being right on top of him making sure grass and pebbles don't make their way into his mouth and he insists on taking showers instead of baths and his favorite songs are not "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" and "Row Row Row Your Boat" but rather things that are sung by Carly Rae Jepsen and Maroon 5 and Katy Perry.

And yesterday.  Yesterday!  We got his last round of booster shots (not a whimper out of him -- he's a rockstar!) and registered him for kindergarten.

Where did this little baby gooooooo?

I'll be completely honest.  Earlier in the year, when all my friends were regisetering their children for kindergarten (we had way, way late registration - in my opinion) and were all boo hoo'ing over their babies growing up, their '06 and '07 assholes starting school, all I could think of was "GET OVER IT."  Because, ya'll, I couldn't wait.  Having three children home with you all day, every day tends to do this little thing called SUCK THE LIFE OUT OF YOU.  Sure, there were times - back in the spring when everyone else was registering - that I would think, "I can't believe my baby is already going to school."  But the emotionalness (word?) was totally tempered by the fact that I was going to have one less kid in the house eight hours a day, five days a week.

But yesterday it just hit me.

My kid is going to school.

Yeah, it's only kindergarten.  And, yeah, this is only one little step in a long journey.  But he is going to school and he is my baby and regardless of anything I said in the past about how I was going to save up all the emotion for when Karis, my final baby, began her school career, I AM EMOTIONAL.  And I'm not apologetic about it.  He's my baby!  How is that the past five years, ten months, and nine days have been the fastest years ever, of all time?  How is that the roly-poly fattest, happiest toddler ever is already going to kindergarten?  It's not right.

Along with my emotion over him starting school, there are a whole bunch of fears.  A whole bunch.  And they're probably irrational but, again, I'll stand by my tag line for this post: HE IS MY BABY.

What if some kid in his class teaches him the "f" word?

What if his teacher insists on nap time and he gets in trouble because he can't be still for the 45 minutes they're supposed to lay on their towel and stare at the ceiling?

What if he gets bored during nap time and puts a tiny piece of yellow crayon in his ear (his mother totes did not do that back in 1985, for the record)?

What if he doesn't make any friends?

What if he's the most popular kid in kindergarten and that turns him into a mini-douchebag?

What if he's the tallest kid in his class and everyone makes fun of him?

How is he going to feel the first time he realizes that everyone in the world is not good and kind and that there are people who don't like him just because? 

Am I going to want to punch a first grader in the face for saying something mean to him on the playground?

What if he is sick and misses his first ever field trip (sorta like his mom . . . for, like, every field trip until the fifth grade)?

What if his teacher is an asshole and he ends up hating school forever?

Somebody hold ME, my kid is starting kindergarten!

I have a feeling I'll look back on this post in a few months, when his first year of kindergarten is down, and I'll laugh and how silly I'm being and what a spectacle I'm making over starting school.  But, for right now, it's a big deal.  A Big Fat Deal.  HE IS MY BABY.  He's growing up and taking those first few steps that will eventually lead to him leaving my nest for good.

Today we registered.  Next Thursday is his first day (sort of) where he'll do testing and meet all the kindergarten teachers and tour the classrooms.  Monday the 13th, I'll walk him to school and leave him with his teacher and he'll officially be a kindergartener.

And I'll probably cry the whole walk home.

Slow down on the growin' up bidness, ya hear?