Dutifully, I had visited the LISD website and pulled the school supply list and gone and gotten everything on it. I realized that his teacher would probably have some items to add to it, but I believed the school district when they said that these were items we would need. We arrive at the school and meet the teacher and she looks puzzled when we ask where to put our supplies. Apparently she only knew that Jake would be in her class a couple hours before the Open House. Furthermore, she had no idea about the list on the LISD website to which I referred. She looked at our supplies and explained that we wouldn't need them. Great. I'm pretty sure that my censor chip did not kick in fast enough and exactly what I was thinking was plastered all over my face. I'm pretty sure of this because the look on her face as she craned her head up to look at me pretty much told me that she was concerned for her safety.
While irritated, I was immediately too busy to act on it as I had to read several sheets of rules and regulations and sign thirteen times that I had read and understood that my child may be subject to lockdown or quite possibly lethal injection should he fail to raise his hand before speaking or possibly sit in the wrong floor square. Something like that, anyway.
As I rushed to finish my worksheets before I had to take them home as homework, El Hubbo (who had cut and run as soon as he saw the paperwork) came up and said, "We forgot our tattoos." I look up and surveyed the room. Sure enough, obviously we did not get the memo. Tattoos, chains and a lot of extreme metal work (studs, piercings, etc.) were on exhibit. And that was just the other mothers. I quietly said a little prayer thanking God that my son was twice the size of the rest of the kids. Then I mentally made a note to enroll Jake in karate classes. Quite possibly me as well, just in case.
We left Open House and Jake was no less excited about starting school. First day rolled around the following Monday, and Jake was up and dressed and preparing his own lunch. We took all the appropriate pictures, loaded him up and hauled him off to school. We walked him up to the front doors, stopped for more picture, then followed the crowd of mamas and daddies and munchkins into the cafeteria. Jake quickly recognized a fellow daycare student and would have been fine if we had left then. But, this was OUR first day, too, and we were determined to see it through!
We followed him to his classroom, taking pictures all the way. He went straight to his locker and put his things away. Then he decided he was certain he could tell everyone else where their locker was. Then the teacher's assistant had to go back and redirect all the students to the correct locker. (I'm sorry, but perversely, I received some pleasure from knowing they would spend half the day untangling the mess Jake started. Serves them right for my spending half the day shopping for school supplies on a list that they claim to have no knowledge of but that is posted on the official website.)
We saw Jake go to his assigned seat and finally, it was time to leave. No tears were shed, but there were big grins on Jake's and on his parent's faces as we were all excited about the big new adventure.
That afternoon, I picked Jake up and asked how it went. Gym was apparently popular, but class was a little boring. The teacher showed them how to hold a pencil. Jake's comment, "I already know how to hold a pencil, duh." We're off to a fine start.
One bright note did occur. Jake told me that he had a friend who was called "stupid" and was hit by another kid bully. Jake said he told his friend just to walk away and go tell the teacher. I said, "Jake, that was very good advice." Jake responded, "Well, what did you expect me to say? He got hit and was called stupid, of course I gave him good advice." I made another mental note to work on Jake's tone as sarcasm is not acceptable when addressing his mama. I mean, really, where on earth did he learn to be sarcastic? (Yes, at times I am delusional.)
Lucky me, more homework was sent home. This time there was more information about lunches and breakfasts and costs and such. I read everything, and Jake asked me what it was. I said, nothing - you are eating breakfast at home and taking your lunch. Jake then tells me that he ate breakfast at school, too. He said his teacher "made" him take a chocolate milk and a cheese stick. Wow, thanks for enforcing good nutritional habits, LISD. And then, as I read the rules, I see that breakfast is optional, and you have to pay for it. So, I am confused. Thinking that surely Jake probably begged for the chocolate milk, I tell El Hubbo to ask the teacher about it when he takes Jake to school the next day.
El Hubbo reported back that the teacher did in fact make each of the student's take breakfast. She had no idea whether we were being charged or not. She also did not seem to think chocolate milk might not be the best choice for a child whose pediatrician has instructed his parents to cut back on the sugars and sweets as he tends toward the bigger end of the growth scale than he should.
I have decided that I might possibly become THAT mama. The one the school dreads to see coming. Not because I would have any problem with their disciplining him, but because I do not like to have had my time wasted reading and signing acknowledgements when THEY AREN'T BEING FOLLOWED. And, then there is my extreme planning and need for organization that has been carefully fostered so as to allow me to juggle the MANY demands on my time. El Hubbo (and most people who have ever had to work with me) will tell you that I get cranky when my time is wasted or when you deviate unnecessarily from "the plan". Besides, I really want them to fear me as much as they fear the tattooed and pierced wonder women whose offspring are my son's classmates. Maybe if I get some of the magnetic studs I can join the gang?
Whew, I feel better getting that off my chest. And, LISD, consider thyself warned.
So, that is week one. I'm sure more challenges and adventures lie ahead, stay tuned!
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