On Friday, my husband and I toured the middle school our fifth-grade son will be attending next year. I recognized parents I hadn’t seen in years, since our kids attended different elementary schools. We had chatted at the playground as we pushed our babies in swings, or may be we had crossed paths at Mommy and Me Music Class. All had larger waistlines and more wrinkled foreheads than I remembered.
We listened politely to the middle-school principal. She didn’t have the soft, sweet voice of an elementary school principal. She told us how important it was to check our kids’ agenda every day, since our kids might lie to us as to whether they had homework or not.
I stopped listening.
Walker would never lie to me. I know Walker will never go near alcohol, or marijuana. His cheeks will never grow rough whiskers, nor will his armpits stink. My little boy has only been with me ten years and I’m not ready for him to change into a lying, odiferous youth who would rather hang out with other lying, odiferous males than me.
I refocused once we started the tour. We stopped by the gym first, where the eight graders were playing basketball. Many of the kids seemed tall enough to touch the basketball hoop. Several of the girls were already one or two bra cup sizes beyond my chest.
We moved to sixth grade language arts class. I was relieved that the boys looked like kids, although the girls still looked like teenagers. The principal asked the students what they liked about middle school. One freckle-faced boy said he liked having several teachers and moving from class to class, because the day wasn’t so boring. A girl with long-blond braids said she liked how she met so many new people from the other elementary schools. I asked the kids if they had any advice for us parents. One brown- haired boy said to tell our kids to do their work, because now they had to get real As, Bs, and Cs: not 1s, 2s, and 3s.
I gulped.
I hoped my Walker’s somewhat laissez faire attitude towards homework wouldn’t result in a 2.0 grade point average.
That night, I read Greek myths to Walker. He positioned his head in the crook of my arm. I wonder how much longer he was going to do this. I thought about asking him, but I didn’t want to make him aware that our nighttime ritual will be something he will outgrow.
That’s the one advantage I have in this growing up thing. I know for certain he is going to change, but I don’t think he really believes it is going to happen.
By Beth Touchette
Labels: basketball, Beth Touchette, bra sizes, elementary school, grades, gym class, middle school, Mommy and Me Music Class, principals, teenagers
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# posted by Writing Mamas Salon @ 12:01 AM
