The Big Day

My older son starts kindergarten on Wednesday, and I am basically a ball of excited nerves about it. I can't even explain why. He's totally ready. Often when he's faced with a transition - big or small - he has a hard time with it. But he is so ready for K that he has barely registered any anxiety. The only things to stress him out so far are: (1) the fact that he still has all his baby teeth; (2) the fact that other kids from his preschool aren't going to his K and (3) the school's no nut policy. Which I should have kept my mouth shut about. He never would have noticed 9 years of ham and cheese sandwiches.

Also, it turns out I forgot to prepare an earthquake kit. Blurg. We had to do one of these for his first preschool and it was awful. Why? because we were asked to write a letter to him that would be read to him only if The Big One hit. Almost nothing is harder than writing a letter to a 3 year old that will be read only if a devastating earthquake hits. "Dear Liam, the way you chew your shirt is really gross and irritating. Cut it out now because your foster parents won't stand for it." Or how about, "You'll be moving to Boston/Virginia soon. You're in charge of your little brother. Don't fuck that up, kid." See? It doesn't get easier just because he's almost 6. Fortunately, this school calls the letter optional, so I am going to exercise my option and not tear myself apart with that one right now. I can barely stand to imagine him in kindergarten, much less hunkering down to wait for the National Guard to escort him someplace.

Tomorrow we have his orientation, when he will meet his teachers and some of his classmates. I don't know whose head will explode first - mine or his - but I will be sure to document extensively if it isn't my head that goes first.

Berzerkley Parents, East and West

Sorry that I've been gone so long. I haven't had much to blog about, plus my tiny random thoughts tend to get put on Facebook. If you are desperate to know the minutia of my life, I suggest you join me there. Otherwise, enjoy the respite from my nonsense while you have it.

Then yesterday I got a one-two punch of stupid parenting stuff. First, from the West Coast, a listserv post from the mother of a one year old:

Is there a spot on Kindergarten applications that asks what preschool your child went to? If so, does the preschool affect the chances of getting into said kindergarten? Is Preschool a pre-req for some kindergartens? As in, you absolutely can not get in unless your child has attended some type of preschool?

I'm starting to feel like my need to find the perfect preschool is similar to my hunt for the perfect hospital to deliver my baby at, then realized that I could just do it at home. (but if I follow that analogy, homebirth didn't work out that well, so maybe homeschooling wouldn't, either, but if I'm really considering ALL my options...)

ARGH. And this isn't even unusual, right? But in case you East Coasters are feeling smug and thinking, "ahhh, ha ha! All our preschools are feeder schools for Harvard!", I came across this article in the Food section of the, yes, New York Times, Soft Serve and Jingle Jangle Moms.

A few observations about this article: First of all, the NYT really knows it audience. Second, a really sad percentage of people do not know how to parent, meaning that when your kid wants ice cream, you either just buy it or you say no, and deal with the aftermath, including the tantrum. That's how kids learn self-control (or how to get shit their parents don't want to give them). Third, Mr. Softee employees know more about parenting than your average New Yorker. Finally, a few parts that speak for themselves:

• New York City principals received letters from the advocacy group Asthma Free School Zone, urging them to keep trucks from their buildings. “Sometimes you’ll see a child in a stroller parked right next to the exhaust pipe of the truck,” said Lori Bukiewicz.
• As a new mother, she said, people coach you on potty training and what to feed your child. “But the ice cream truck, nobody ever mentions that,” she said.
• Jim Conway, a vice president for Mister Softee, said the company encouraged vendors to be sensitive to customers’ complaints. But parents, he said, are different from when he was young. Those who dislike the ice cream man, he said, tend to be “New Age parents whose kids can’t seem to do anything without them.”
• But the complaints are not just coming from effete organic-food zealots with too much time on their hands. The 18th Ward in Chicago, which banned ice cream vendors, is made up of working-class African-American families. Ms. Reiley is a stay-at-home mother. Ms. Heidel-Habluetzel is a real-estate agent who is an active volunteer at her children’s school. And Ms. Sell owns and runs a restaurant in Brooklyn with her husband, a chef.

That last part is so offensive to me. "It's not just effete organic-food zealots, it's Black people, too!" because of course those two categories do not overlap, ever! And the idea that a real estate agent or a restaurant owner is "working class" is galling. Is it because they're African-American or because they live in the 18th Ward? Does anyone with any sense at the NYT read these things before they are published?

UPDATE: h/t to my old law school classmate who found this article, "Irate" Ice Cream Mom Knows a Few Things About Sugar Pushing Herself. Zing! And the race was on!