Sort of From the Wolf Den: The Teacher's Calling

24 hours later, and my blood pressure is back to normal.

Those of you with children who possess atypical behaviors, conditions, or disabilities that hinder their progress with all things education will understand in a heartbeat when I say the sound of the phone ringing once school has started brings nothing but personal angst.

Let's return, shall we, to the days of Wolf's kindergarten adventures, when his teacher would call with regularity, usually after I had arrived home, kicked off my shoes, and opened a glass of wine, which subsequently turned into the entire bottle. Oy.

I spent hours on the phone, in conferences, reading (and writing) notes, and begging with my son to "keep your hands to yourself", right up until 8th grade, so adding in preschool, I have been a shadowy presence in Wolf's education for almost 11 years. Hopefully one would be sympathetic to my unconscious reaction last night.

The phone rang around 8:30, after a long day post-vacation. Bear had told me, almost proudly, darn him, that he had received a "Red Card" for some of the day (Red, Yellow, Green is the process) but "ended up with Green, mommy". One thing I like about Rilke Schule is their subscription to the model "you are in charge of your own behavior" and rarely call parents. So when the phone rang, and Frau M.'s voice came over the line, I was worried indeed.

Hence the rapid rise in blood pressure.

And for all that, all my instant panic and pale-faced hand-wringing, all Frau M. wanted was me to come in and volunteer for the class. When my head cleared and I found my voice, I was able to answer in the affirmative, but I'm sure she thought me a bit odd.

Can't blame me, though, can you?

My

Update on Back To School

This is what a day might look like for a mommy such as me who is now faced with an ENTIRE day to herself:

Deliver child to school and make it home in a record 15 minutes. Ahem.

Reheat coffee and drink, making note of the silence in and around the house.

Write an article, start to finish, without interruptions to wipe noses or other anatomical parts, fix the Lego police helicopter, or butter the toast.

Go to Costco without a small child draped in, across, underneath, or on top of the shopping cart. High five the receipt-checker at the door, because he knew why I was smiling so much.

Eat lunch on my deck with a favorite book, listening to NPR. Wish I had a glass of wine to go with the lunch.

Take the dog for a walk around the neighborhood, purposely NOT running because now I have time for a leisurely stroll instead of a mad dash because I have to be somewhere to pick up somebody.

Talk to my husband without hearing "MommmmmYYYY!" or "I WANNNNNT you NOW!" in the background.

I don't like it at all.

On the Road Towards Higher Learning: The First Day of School

I had philosphized the first day of Kindergarten blog post for a long time. I was going to emote, extoll and embellish my feelings of both joy and sorrow at depositing my second and final child into the wonderful world of Kindergarten. It would be bittersweet, sincere, and meaningful as my little boy left my arms and entered those of the Anchorage School District.

Not.

It was sort of a non-event, this first day of school, if you leave out the falling asleep at 10 p.m. and up and 6:30 a.m. part, due to a teensy bit of excitement on the student's part. But going to school? Eh, no problem.

I guess I expected something different, having sent one child to school still clinging to my leg like a bug some 10 years ago. Bear? His grand entrance consisted of both Yukon and I (dutifully carrying the camera) escorting him to Rilke Schule, a German immersion charter school we've been anticipating since it opened three years ago. Calm and eyeing his new classmates with the practiced eye of one who knows what he likes and likes what he sees, Bear was more than willing to sit at the "Grune" table with three other girls (how do teachers always know that girls really dig him?) and start right into his morning work, coloring a tugboat in great detail.

When Yukon and I lingered, chatting with Frau Judith and dropping school supplies into their respective bins, he casually mentioned over his shoulder, "You can go, now."

Oh. Right. Kindergarten isn't for parents.

Yukon returned after lunch to witness the presentation of the "Schuletuten", a paper cone filled with school supplies and treats and given to all German children when they begin school for the first time. It is very exciting and a rite of passage for the kids. You can see Bear with Frau Judith, his German teacher, in the last photo. She is wonderful and will be a good fit, for sure.

Tuesday being Alaska Travelgram Day, I could not attend the assembly, but shuttled home ASAP after a short phone conversation post-show. "Mommy!" my little-big-man shouted over the cell phone. "I LOVED my first day of Kindergarten!"

Oh, you have simply no idea how grateful I was to hear those words.

From the Wolf Den: It is Time

Tomorrow I am spending the day looking into the faces of the people who decide my son's present and future status. Part of a newly created work group to determine just how the System shall work once the Bring the Kids Home Initiative funds run out in 2013 (I was off on that last post), I have been asked to be a part of the conversation.

It's been a long time since I have been privy to decision-making on a state level; before I was the provider looking to preserve my own industry's interests as they related to the vulnerable adults I served, now I represent a host of vulnerable children...

I'm curious, I'm skeptical, I'm encouraged, all at the same time. Does that sound strange?

Bear's Day of Truth

Surprised you, didn't I? Usually when I blog about someone's moment of truth, it is in regard to #1 son. Not this time. Yesterday was Bear's day.

We who live within the boundaries of the Anchorage School District are fortunate to have a plethora of choices when it comes to schools. "Open optional" programs, language immersion schools, Montessori, "back to basics" schools; the list goes on and on. When it came time to decide where our little Bear would begin his educational journey, it could have been difficult. Fortunately, it wasn't.

We made two choices, one for the neighborhood school, a fine option, and one for a German language-immersion school called the Rilke Schule. The lottery was held yesterday for Rilke, and Bear got in. I'll have to polish up my Deutsch-sprech'in then. The most comforting part is Rilke is K-8, which means I can alleviate my fears about Anchorage middle schools, none of which thrill me.

The absolute best, most positive part of the day? When accepting our lottery slot, the school secretary said "I need to remind you that since we are a Charter School, we do not have a full-time education specialist, so we must know ahead of time if your child has needs we need to meet."

I was happy to say "No".

I was just a little bit sad, too.