last day of school

Little Miss Z wrapped up her first year of kindergarten today. It sounded as though she had a very unstructured day, and rightly so. Her afterschool program had a barbecue and, to my delight, she tried everything. Except the hot dogs. Apparently they were too burnt. For the record, they probably weren't, maybe some charred specks here and there. But even one grayish charred speck damns the hot dog to an uneaten eternity.

She was able to accomplish a lot this year. She painted this butterfly for a project - a quilt made up of butterflies and various fabric squares for the school auction in the spring. Unfortunately, I didn't get to see it in person, but the mom who won it took photos of all the squares for us. She's becoming a better reader. Her artwork is stunning. She worked in the school garden and knows more about compost and worm farms than I do. She is learning to be responsible and respectful - as I like to put it, a good citizen of the world.

I learned a lot in kindergarten, too. I was lucky to witness a group of genuinely sweet and caring five and six year olds grow together. I met some fantastic, down to earth, no drama parents and am looking forward to spending the next five years with them in supporting our kids and the school. I saw the amazing efforts of a first-time principal who is dedicated to moving forward, not dwelling on past or present. I marveled at how skilled the k teachers were in corralling those kids and directing their energy positively.

Summer vacation is really not that long this year. Z starts first grade on August 16, not even three months away. She's eagerly awaiting zoo camp and the Y summer break camp. There's a trip to Tahoe over the 4th of July weekend. Plenty of ice cream and popsicles that require eating. Forlorn plots around the house that are crying for some kind of plant life; we'll experiment. Movies to watch, snails to examine, seasonal fruit to eat, Giants' games to attend, ribbons in swim school to get. And then we start our first grade year with eyes wide open, happy to be learning and being with old and new friends.

the kindergarten follow-up, two weeks later

So far, Z's kindergarten experience is a positive, exciting one. She loves it. I'm glad. And relieved. And feeling validated about our school choice. The only thing she's complained about is the lack of a two-hour nap time. This is from the child who refused to nap from day one.

1st day of kindergarten

Z started kindergarten today. She’s been outfitted with a new matching backpack and lunchbox set. With a horse theme. I said she should pick her clothes out, and this is what she chose.

Unfortunately, that outfit wasn’t much protection against the morning chill while we were waiting in the schoolyard. Z was complaining that her legs were cold. She eventually decided to lay down on the asphalt on her backpack, like a turtle that got flipped onto its shell. Fortunately it was soon time for the morning assembly. The entire school formed a large circle, said the Pledge of Allegiance, and listened to some announcements from the new principal.

Everyone walked en masse to the kindergarten pod. Z was on the subdued side of her personality but was responsive. We saw her settle into the circle of kids for circle time and waved goodbye when the parents were asked to leave.

Her verdict when we picked her up? “It was okay.” Which means success!

coming home

Now that we have Z into a school, we're thinking of buying a house and setting down some roots. We're not expecting to make this move for some time, though. There's the albatross of our beloved Chicago house. Even with all its sterling qualities, it will not sell at the peak price that we purchased it for. If only I could pick it up and bring it over to the west coast. It's not a huge house, but it was home for a few years and I have fond memories. 

Although we want to live near the school, it's in a fairly posh neighborhood, and housing prices are not compatible with our current situation. So we're tracking prices in adjacent neighborhoods, including the Parkside and Sunset. To tell the truth, I'm experiencing some ambivalence because I spent a good part of my childhood in these areas. I had always thought I'd never live in that area again, and to be looking at housing there is, well, weird. I never wanted to go home, so to speak. But there is some odd comfort in living in the same neighborhood: riding the N Judah, marveling at the stretch of Noriega that's become a micro Chinatown, going to Sunset Super (either location) for my comfort food cravings (fish balls...oh yeah), dim sum and roll cakes to go on Irving Street - and Yum Yum Fish is still there!

My feeling is that we'll rent a humble abode within walking distance (ideally) of school once we rent out the Chicago house and if we find something that works. Like most of the great things that have happened to me, it'll be by chance and very easy. And we can still go to the wonton house on Noriega for cheap, filling eats; the kids dig on the wonton noodle soup.

school, glorious school

The dust has settled. We got our first choice public school and were waitpooled on all four of the privates to which we applied. Happy, of course, that we have a solid school in pocket, but a little sad about losing the chance for a unique educational experience for Z and O, at least in the elementary years. People have tried to be upbeat and reassuring that the waitlists could clear over the summer, but I see this one opportunity dimming. We'll try again for middle school, but it will be no less difficult, if not more so.

I was seduced by the offerings from the privates. Beautiful campuses, warmth and a sense of community, a fully-loaded curriculum, and - if I had to be honest - a chance to give my kids a leg up in the world. It was a glimpse into an entirely different experience that neither D nor I had as children. It was a gift we wanted to give Z and O, and it was frustrating that we couldn't pull it off. 

We're being philosophical; God is pointing us toward the public. To reinforce that notion, there is a preschool next to the school's campus. I'm touring it in a few weeks, and if my gut says go, I'm submitting an application for O. The ability to minimize the impact of the double drop-off/pick-up is infinitely valuable.

I'm trying to not see this as a closed door but a turn in the road. It's hard not to feel a sense of loss, though. I'm wondering if the mere fact that my older baby is starting kindergarten in a few months is the root of my emotional reaction to the process. 

In the meantime, I'm indulging in fantasies of volunteering in the school library and chaperoning field trips.

trying not to overthink it

Z is in the playdate phase of the private school admissions process. My gut tells me that she's been doing well and that all we need to do now is sit back and wait until March to see what the results are. My brain, however, enjoys tormenting me with thoughts like "this is a waste of time", "we have no chance" and "she will be miserable here and tell you daily as you're bleeding money for the tuition and extras".

My gut tells me that the decision will be obvious and easy; the right school will be made beautifully clear to us. Clarity of the path has been a hallmark of the major decisions that I've made. But try telling my mind that.