September 03, 2008
first days

Second day in. Classes are working well. At some point I should remember to check out all the material kindly prepared for my lessons, so I can know WTF I’m doing Monday. Actually, I know exactly what I’ll be doing Monday: flipping burgers at an outdoor ed centre for a bunch of sniffly Grade 9’s. Student Council supervision is suspiciously like the Mafia: I thought I’d done my time at Hogsboro, but they keep sucking me back in.

I don’t actually mind. It’s a very well-run club, and I’m not the go-to staff advisor anyway. I’m very much the beta-puppy in the room, and the alpha dog is someone I like very much. In fact, Oonaugh is my second-favourite staff member this year. She’s cute and little and blonde, she’s got an unusual name, she has a puppy and a squeaky voice and a big diamond ring, she’s calm and funny and organized to all hell. She’s the perfect mix of cuddly and competence, and yes, I am a bit smitten with her. I thought I’d made that obvious.

Blake’s first day of kindergarten seems to have gone well. He’s being close-mouthed about the whole affair, preferring to state only that he had a good day and did everything the teacher said. (“What kind of things did you do?” I prod. He thinks for a second. “Everything the teacher told me,” he replies, taciturn as a captured soldier.) Of course, it took 8 months of JK last year for him to begin volunteering anything at all about his day, even if that consisted primarily of snitching on a wide variety of playground infractions and punishments.

My mom seems vastly more comfortable with this year’s school than last year. I think she’s comforted by the familiarity of the public system; she never really got into the Montessori ways as practiced by Blake’s JK. She seems particularly enamored of the free backpack (provided by Costco) and the more relaxed attitude toward police checks for volunteers. She’s readying for her role of SuperGrandmother, even talking about volunteering for the breakfast program. It’s good to see her so satisfied.

Labels: ,

Powered by Blogger

The contents of this site, unless otherwise noted, are copyright Rocketbride 1997-2009.
Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*