The Writing Mamas Daily Blog
Each day on the Writing Mamas Daily Blog, a different member will write about mothering.If you're a mom then you've said these words, you've made these observations and you've lived these situations - 24/7.
And for that, you are a goddess.
Monday, May 04, 2009
When Should You Send Your Child to Kindergarten?
I am afraid if I send him before he is “ready,” I risk launching a tragic school career. It will be fraught with failures and missed opportunities sprinkled with serious judgement errors.
Everything will be traced back to kindergarten.
“If only I had one more year to work on my social skills,” he’ll say, as he cries from the window he has shot out as a teenage serial shooter. “It only I had learned my ABCs.”
Of course, the truth is -- I feel guilty for actually thinking about my needs first when considering when to send him. My son, Paul, has a late birthday, missing the cut off by one week, which was just as well because he was not ready.
But with Eric, it is up to me. His birthday is August 1st. This will put him pretty much in the middle. He will not be the youngest and he will not be the smallest. He turns five-years old, four months before the cut-off date, so he is officially old enough.
“If only I had one more year to work on my social skills,” he’ll say, as he cries from the window he has shot out as a teenage serial shooter. “It only I had learned my ABCs.”
Of course, the truth is -- I feel guilty for actually thinking about my needs first when considering when to send him. My son, Paul, has a late birthday, missing the cut off by one week, which was just as well because he was not ready.
But with Eric, it is up to me. His birthday is August 1st. This will put him pretty much in the middle. He will not be the youngest and he will not be the smallest. He turns five-years old, four months before the cut-off date, so he is officially old enough.
Is he “prepared” enough?
Socially, he is up for anything. Whatever he sees, he wants to try. He is always determined to succeed. He gets frustrated easily but this involves him clenching his jaw and his fists and stating loudly: “I am so frustrated!”
Paul’s reaction to just about everything has always been tears and hysteria. But Paul was writing his name by four-years old. When I ask Eric to spell, he smiles and says “S!” He is obsessed with Scotch Tape and opens Zip-Lock Bags by ripping a whole in the bottom.
He takes his pants off in order to pee. No matter what the weather, he will be wearing shorts (“little pants”), a T-shirt with a dinosaur on it, and bare feet. Oh, and no underwear. I finally figured out the shoes and underwear slow him down when he takes his pants off to go.
And so he is registered.
Socially, he is up for anything. Whatever he sees, he wants to try. He is always determined to succeed. He gets frustrated easily but this involves him clenching his jaw and his fists and stating loudly: “I am so frustrated!”
Paul’s reaction to just about everything has always been tears and hysteria. But Paul was writing his name by four-years old. When I ask Eric to spell, he smiles and says “S!” He is obsessed with Scotch Tape and opens Zip-Lock Bags by ripping a whole in the bottom.
He takes his pants off in order to pee. No matter what the weather, he will be wearing shorts (“little pants”), a T-shirt with a dinosaur on it, and bare feet. Oh, and no underwear. I finally figured out the shoes and underwear slow him down when he takes his pants off to go.
And so he is registered.
He is excited about the prospect: announcing daily that when he is “bigger” he will go to Paul’s school. Every day I am encouraged by his positive attitude and determination. While Paul always needed to be “first,” Eric prefers a challenge. I am confident he will rise to the test and have a great year at kindergarten.
I look forward to to athose extra “child free” hours, too.
By Cathy Burke
I look forward to to athose extra “child free” hours, too.
By Cathy Burke
Labels: ABCs, Cathy Burke, dinosaur, five-years old, kindergarten, Scotch Tape, social skills, T-shirt, Zip-Lock Bags
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Tuesday, April 28, 2009
How to Find a Place of Comfort When Your Kids Drive You Insane
I stand by the front door, open it, glance at my watch. “It’s time to leave!” I announce hopefully, trying not to betray the mounting tension, doubt and anxiety the last five minutes at home often produces on school days.
The third grader arrives. She has spent the last fifteen minutes wrapping her forearm in toilet paper, held together like a cast with scotch tape, because she “hurt it falling out of bed.” The voice inside my head, disbelieving, scornfully asks, “What IS it with you?” I would never have gotten away with this kind of plea for attention.
And then the first-grader: she appears, this time, with hair and teeth unbrushed, socks and shoes not even found, her breakfast half-eaten, some still on her face. “Mommy, I brought this especially for you,” she says in a tender, meaningful voice, as if to say, I Love You With All My Heart and there is NOTHING else that matters, especially school.
“How S-w-e-e-t,” I manage to get out while I glance at my watch and evil-eye the plastic sparkle ring that she’s offering me perched atop a bed pillow. Time ticks, toddler begins to run amok. The internal voice again, louder, “I asked you to brush your hair and get your shoes four times already and you never listen and now it’s time to leave and we’ll probably be LATE.” Thanks, I say. It’s time for school. Time to GET IN THE CAR, I say. Do you UNDERSTAND?
Then the toddler comes in the house and throws a handful of dirt from the potted plant on the Persian runner, like an offering of the worst kind, straight at my feet. I begin to assume the look of a crazed and rabid dog.
Recently, I put an old, paint-peeling Adirondack chair on our front porch. It is my official time-out spot. I go there almost every morning to remember how to breathe.
Breathe, write, breathe, write….
by Lauren Cargill
Labels: Adirondack chair, breathe, Coffee, diapers, front porch, Lauren Cargill, Persian Rug, Scotch Tape, toilet paper, unbrushed teeth, write
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