I wake, start the coffee, and drag Eleanor out into the cold for her morning amble and pee. I check my work email, check Facebook. I yawn, stretch and head to the kitchen to pour my first cup of coffee, but there’s no coffee. None. I shake the glass pot, determining if I forgot to pour the water into the machine. I flip the switch a few times. I wonder if I hallucinated the whole process just ten minutes earlier. And then I realize the coffee machine is not plugged in. This is my morning.
In about two hours I’m taking Cole to his new school for Kindergarten registration. I have a helluva time typing “kindergarten.” I either type, “kingerdarten” or “kindergarden.”
Since he was three, the Kaiser has expressed his vehement desire to opt out kindergarten. His attitude toward learning has shifted. He dreads school. He hates going. He begs to stay home. He complains that the letter writing is boring, he has no friends and the lunches are crap. I’ve basically taken the, “suck it up, pal” approach.
He’s wicked smart. I know that all parents say this about their children. Fine. But he’s smart and he’s creative and I think he’s just easily…. Bored. He’s not excited about learning. He’s known his letters, upper and lowercase, since he was barely two. So when they do letter worksheets at school, he’s utterly uninterested.
Last night I asked him if he’d like to finish his school work that was sent home (if they do not complete their worksheets at school, it’s sent home blank). He said no and when I looked at him quizzically I got an honest answer.
“Worksheets are boring. I hate them.” So we didn’t do it. We wrote a letter to Hayden instead.
He does a damn fine job at the worksheets, tracing letters and connecting matching sounds. I have only recently started looking at them, but I’ve only recently realized that I should be looking at them. For me, it’s always been more about process than product. I don’t keep his shitty art and I don’t store away countless pieces of scribbled-on paper. So I really didn’t pay attention to the worksheets and whether they were completed on not. We do our own thing at home – reading, writing letters to Grover, drawing, and sounding out words. I don’t do worksheets, but I know I’m going to have to start.
He begs to stay home with me. If I could afford it, I’d consider home schooling. But I can’t so here we are, facing registration day. His resistance makes me sad, but I have a feeling that he’ll find it far more exciting than pre-school. I hope.