Dirty Little Secret

So last night was my first back-to-school night as a parent. It was weird walking into a school’s hall as an unknown mom instead of a popular staff member. And then it freaked me out a little bit to realize that nearly everyone there was white. I used to teach in an urban school, so I’m more used to being the only white chick than to being the only white chick not wearing high heels. Or the only white chick without a tan. This place was pale enough to be a Klan meeting.

It was pretty awful at first. Everyone seemed to know each other, or be with a spouse (Hubby had to stay home with the kids) or be designer-clad. And this is the cheap preschool. I’m much better at including people than at being included, but I did manage to chat with a few people during the main meeting.

Things got a lot better when I went to Ironflower’s classroom. Her teacher’s presentation was better than mine ever was, she seems great. AND I had so much fun chatting with two other moms (who did know each other and looked very glamorous but turned out to be former teachers) that I actually had a good time.

The only problem is that on one of the many forms I filled out to enroll Ironflower, I must have checked “yes” to be a class parent. I got a list of duties along with the regular info pack last night. The list is long. Two of things on it are extorting money for teacher gifts and calling people to harass them about volunteering. If I was good at such things I would be selling Mary Kay and have a pink car, not trying to write and driving a seven year old Subaru. I can only hope someone else was dumb enough to be co-class parent with me. And I hope she’s outgoing (I could be pc and say she or he, which I would do in most situations, but there were only about 10 fathers out of a hundred parents there last night) and likes to bother people.

I hope my failings as a class parent don’t make Ironflower unpopular.

We enrolled Ironflower in preschool yesterday. I did not even tear up. She has been telling random strangers that she’s going to school soon and her joy is infectious. I may feel differently when I actually have to leave her there, of course, but for right now I can’t wait for her to go. She will thrive and I will only have to manage Lovebug at the park on those days. It’s fun for everybody.

The paperwork involved was not as much fun. I did not mind writing our address, phone numbers and emergency contacts over and over again. Goddess knows I made enough parents do it when I was a teacher. But the personal questionnaire was harder. Having been a teacher, I was terribly afraid of writing anything that could prejudice the teachers in any way.

When it asked if I had any concerns, I did not mention that I worry that Ironflower will throw temper tantrums that shake the school. When it asked how much TV she watches, I did not mention the days she watches 3 shows, I only mentioned the days she watches 1. When it asked if she would need help in the bathroom, I did not explain how she will first have to be convinced that she needs help.

In short, I lied. On her preschool forms. I keep telling myself that this does not mean I will become one of those parents who fakes the reading logs or does the homework, but I’m not convinced. This is a slippery slope and I’m not wearing hiking boots.

parenting

I’ve spent the last two afternoons visiting preschools (instead of blogging). I just want somewhere fun, safe and educational to send both kids three mornings a week. Zoe is very mentally ready for school and I think Zach needs the social/independent time. But apparently my desire for part-time preschool for such small children is weird. Most of the preschools around here close for the summer and won’t take someone Zach’s age.

So I started checking out the preschool/daycare centers. They are lovely, with wonderful curricula and great playgrounds. But my Goddess, they cost an arm and a leg. And both assistant directors I talked to kept telling me about nap time until I reminded them that my kids would be leaving before nap time. I guess they don’t have a lot of part-time kids.

Part of me feels guilty for even thinking of sending Zach to school at all. He’s only fifteen months old. But beyond my need to actually do real work from home (as opposed to snatched moments of blogging), I think Zach needs more exposure to other kids. And to other loving adults. He’s pretty independent when he can see me, but he won’t let other people near him (including grandparents) most of the time. I know school would help with it. Zoe, at two and a half going on ten, needs school more than I need for her to go.

I suppose I’ll feel guilty no matter what we do - that seems to be a common mommy feeling for me.