So here I am already. Somehow, some way, my daughter is primed for kindergarten in August. Sure, we could technically wait one more year to send her; she has one of those strange late-September birthdays which puts her in the camp of being either a year younger or a year older than her potential classmates. And while we have struggled with some behavioral tics – and still do from time to time – we think she’s ready. Academically she needs it. While her current school is fan-damn-tastic, she’s getting bored there. She’s been in the same classroom for 2 years and most of her friends went to “big school” this past fall.
I’ll spare all the gory details, but our school system sucks here. I mean it blows mega Technicolor chunks. We also don’t have the money to send our kids to private school. Their preschool has about buried us financially. After going through gifted testing, I also put our hat into the lottery for the magnet program. Long story short, we qualified for gifted AND got our first pick for magnet. We’re going with magnet, as this school has the best numbers in our area AND it gives Felix a leg up on selection when it’s his turn.
So I’ve started researching what happens in August. Yeah, I’m crazy starting this early.
As excited as she is to go to Big School – and I’m so grateful she’s excited…she would be there today if she could – it makes me sad. Reading the student handbook where they talk homework and uniforms, it just seems so…..unfun for little kids. I understand the uniform thing, but man…. For kindergartners? Little boys should be in t-shirts with trucks and monsters on them. Little girls should be sparkly. Instead navy blue bottoms and burgundy tops? Geeez. I wouldn’t want to wear that merde. And there was something about expecting kids to spend a minimum of 30 minutes a night reading. Don’t get me wrong. We love reading. Stella loves reading. She’s reading at a high level for a kiddo that’s only 4. But 30 minutes a night? In kindergarten??
And then there’s before and after-care, which is essential if you have to – oh, I don’t know – work for a living. Reading the expectations there makes me sad. In the morning, it’s “silent review” or reading. For an hour. For 4-5 year olds.
We drove by her new Big School yesterday. She was ready charge inside, causing a “schools aren’t open on Sundays” speech. She’s desperate to know if there’s a guitar and trumpet inside (WTF?). I know she’s growing up. Hell, she wants to grow up. But damn it, I want her to be a kid, too. I want her to play, to get dirty. I know I’m singing the same lamentation that every parent sings when their kid goes off to Big School. I know she’ll love it. But I don’t have to.