Kindergarten or Bust

Confession: My kids are not prefect. (hint: yours probably are not either)

Ever met those moms who will be happy to provide you with a laundry list of what makes their child so amazing, so special, so above reproach? Were you having this conversation while, with a blind eye and face conveniently turned toward you, the parents go on and on about how little Abby is Harvard bound (she's 3 by the way), all the while little Abby is ripping the hair out of your kids head and stealing all of her toys? Yeah, I thought so. My advice, find yourself one nice mom with a well behaved kid and hold on for dear life. These others, they tend to travel in packs- blind, deaf, denial filled packs.

I had to register #2 for Kindergarten today. While the moms and dads filled out all the mounds of appropriate paperwork (starting school or applying for a seat on the US Senate??), the little boys and girls were banished to a room where they were asked to draw a variety of pictures for the hosting teacher and counselor. This is presumably to determine if little Jimmy is a future serial killer. So that, at the very least, they can put him in the class with all of the other little future serial killers. Why spread the wealth around? So, off the kiddies go to public kindergarten's version of a Rorschach test. And we parents continue with the daunting process of getting our kids signed up for school. This, by the way, is public school. Don't they like, have to let you in? Another pile of papers is tossed before us and we are asked to write for the teachers, some information they might like to know about our kids.

Of course the wheels in my head begin to turn. What can I say? What will I say? And, I worry, can they really deny you admittance to public school kindergarten? So I sat and watched as 9 other moms and 1 dad wrote down a laundry list of wonderful things about their kids. The woman next to me wrote hers in the form of a list. The teacher has said after all, that many parents do it that way. Sort of a pros and cons list if you will, but they like to call it "strengths and weaknesses". Again, don't want to damage those fragile little psyches by actually suggesting that they might not be perfect in every way. When I glanced over to the lists on either side of me, ala 10th grade biology class (sorry Judy Strasser), I was shocked to see that the both women had produced a list containing about 37 pros and 0 cons about their children. Zero. Zip. Really? Come on. So, I resolved myself to the fact that I had the only imperfect children in the entire town that we live in, and proceeded to make my list.

I wrote about how my daughter has issues with structure; that she doesn't really like to follow 'rules' but prefers to do her own thing. I wrote that she gets very easily frustrated and even angry when she can not complete a task. I wrote that she still, at almost 5, will have an occasional tantrum if things don't go her way. And I wrote that I had concerns as to whether or not she was socially ready for kindergarten. I know. I sound like the meanest, most negative mom ever don't I? Especially next to those two pollyannas who went before me. But, I also said that my daughter was funny, and witty, and had a passionate spirit about everything that she does. I said that she was a real character and can provide those around her with endless joy and laughter. And I mentioned that while I have social concerns, I have absolutely no concerns as to her being academically ready for kindergarten because clearly she is a genius. So in the end it all balanced out. And you know what? After the fact, when I was talking to one of the teachers outside, she told me this:
Your words about #2 were so helpful. So many times
parents only want to tell us how perfect their children are.
It is great that they love and think so highly of their
children, but we as teachers really appreciate the whole
picture. It gives us such a better understanding of how
best to teach your child.

Just like that I felt vindicated. I didn't feel like I was talking about my child behind her back. I didn't feel any more guilt about telling people what they needed to know. I was not badmouthing her. I wasn't afraid anymore that if I spoke openly about her, she might not be invited to the next play date. My child is human. And she is four. Time goes so quickly. Before I know it, we'll be looking for colleges. And if the college asks me to tell them the "strengths and weaknesses" of my child, I will be able to proudly do so. Of course, by then maybe there will be fewer weaknesses to report. I am sure they'll still let her into Harvard, right?