Two productions

On Friday was my son's graduation from preschool and I was promised by all of the teachers that I'd better bring at least one box of tissues because it was sure to be a sob-fest. And in fact it was very sweet and quite a production. I was very proud of my son, even when he told me mid-song to stop looking at him. It was fun to see him sing all of the songs he'd been practicing at home for the last four months and even a few in Mandarin and Spanish (yes, we live in California) that's I'd never heard. And I felt very assured by the end of the production that we were making the right decision to send him to the Young Fives program at the JCC. Something about him hardly smiling, eyes darting around the room and his general seriousness made me think another year of play and self assurance would be great for him. But I can't say I cried. I welled up a little when I saw his teacher start crying as she was handing out the diplomas (did I mention they were all wearing pint size caps and gowns?). But the sob-fest unexpectedly happened the day after when I went with my husband, brother and sister-in-law to see another production.

I am a writer without words on this one. We went to see Wicked in San Francisco and from the moment they all started singing I just started sobbing. The set, the costumes, the lighting and those VOICES. George Jesus, those were some amazing voices. And the lyrics and the story. So clever. So much talent. So many artists shining up there. And I imagined them at various ages telling there parents they wanted to be performers, dancers, actors, singers. And I imagined those parents wishing their kids would just lead happy lives and not the ones that come with a TON of rejection and struggle. But these kids did it. They made it. They're starring in this unbelievably magical show together, waving their "I'm going to be who I am no matter what" flag. By the end of the performance I was on my feet clapping hysterically and sobbing with joy. Am I pregnant or what? The answer to that one is a definitive no. Nonetheless, I could hardly contain myself at this performance. Girl, you need to get out more. And then I imagined bringing my kids to see it when they're a little bit older and waiting outside the backstage door to meet the actors and hoping they would leave the theater, like me, inspired to fly.

The letter

So he's all signed up for the Young Fives program at the JCC. We even got funding which to be honest I find completely ridiculous. Yes, my son has a scholarship to go to preschool. And the preschool families all get a year of JCC membership which is fabu because it's brand new and will have a rad kiddie pool and all kinds of classes and spaces and places and things and we can't wait. So much so that now we're kicking ourselves for not signing up our daughter so that they could be together for one more year. And that is why I spent another $100 to send in her application (it was less expensive for me to apply to business school but never mind) and I will apply for financial aid again even though they've already given out all the money and there isn't even space in the two year old class for her anyway. Whatever. Details. It will all work out. And if she ends up going to the family day care around the corner, probably all the better since it's cheap and amazing and we love it.

So all is settled (sort of) and then we get the letter on Saturday that they opened up a third kindergarten class at the magnet (public school) program that we were wait-listed for and we're in. WE'RE IN! And I'm back at the beginning where I don't know what to do and everyone has an opinion but no one really knows this kid like we do except he's really two kids; he's the kid at school and he's the kid at home. And the kid at home still falls apart completely when he doesn't have an apple every single night for snack. (this sounds crazy but some nights I just really don't want to add cutting an apple to the six hundred step good-night ritual even though I usually cave and do it anyway because it's an apple after all. Nature's tooth brush. Don't worry - I still brush his teeth).

And now I've come to understand that parents who live in other states, most of which have a September 1 cut-off, often hold their kids back too except these kids are being held back with May, June and July birthdays...so that means my kid would be going to college at 17 with kids who are already 19 and change.

But it's a lottery, this program. So if we don't grab it, we may not get in next year. Friends have told me if it really doesn't work out he can just repeat kindergarten. But don't kids remember that their whole lives and feel bad about themselves? That's probably just me projecting. Someone just make this decision for me.

Remind me to have my next baby in March.

A Tale of Two Kiddies

I went in last week for my son's mid-year performance evaluation, I mean, parent-teacher conference. I had already basically made up my mind that we would keep him in preschool another year. Although not this preschool. We'd been looking at "Young Fives" programs in the area and I'd found two that I really liked and we are on the waiting list for both. My son has an October birthday but we'd sort of always assumed that he would go ahead to kindergarten younger than most. That's what my husband and I both did. And our older brothers. And we all turned out fine. Although my husband is now having flash backs of being a 5 foot three inch senior and not really enjoying the whole social aspect of high school...but I digress...

So we moved him to preK this year and it was a total nightmare. Or at least a massive miscalculation. He basically cried every morning before leaving for school and when I'd ask him in the afternoon who he played with he would say no one. I played by myself. Now he didn't seem overly bothered by this so I just nodded and said, hmm, great, meanwhile projecting all of my worst insecurities about being liked in school and having friends on this poor kid who's quite content to just ride a trike around the blacktop thirty times and call it a day. 

And even now, four months later, he's only kind of getting into it. We have our morning routine down and he's only rarely "creepy" in the morning. Goodbyes are never dramatic. He still clings to me during field trips. But he's started talking about a few friends which thrills me to no end. He's even been invited to some birthday parties. Kids who are turning five mind you. So that's been nice. Although he won't talk to anyone when we go. Less nice. Anyway, none of this behavior could have prepared me for the parent teacher conference. A snippet:

Your son has made a 180 degree change. He has really blossomed. Everyone adores him. He doesn't much want to play with the teachers anymore. He picks and chooses his friends and he does so wisely. He's always raising his hand and participating in the class. He has a lot of energy. He's excellent at negotiating his relationships. He demands an apology and forgives immediately. He's extremely imaginative. And he's almost reading. He's the kid that makes teachers cry when we think about how far he's come. He is COMPLETELY ready for kindergarten.

Huh? I mean I love this kid dearly. He's really the light of my life but, huh? This is the same kid that won't start eating dinner unless his blue booster seat is lined up perfectly with the chair beneath it. Or the kid who will only wear his black jeans during the week and his brown "weekend" pants on the weekend. And only blue socks or the stripy ones that his aunt gave him or his frosty the snowman socks that his other aunt gave him (these amazing women clearly know my son). I mean I have to say that I was totally flabbergasted. I admit I have seen a difference in him over the last few weeks. My husband even noticed. But I thought for sure they'd agree with me to hold him back. 

So now we're in a quandary again. I'm signing him up for kindergarten in the end, which is a lottery for the magnet program in our neighborhood, plus these two special preschool programs for fall birthday kids. I guess we'll just see where he gets in. I would love to send him ahead just to save on preschool tuition, and if he's actually ready, then all the better. But I have one friend with older boys who says she regrets sending her oldest ahead and he's an August birthday. At the time he was also ready for kindergarten. But by the time middle school rolls around it can be brutal for the youngest boys in the class. Another woman I met said she just wished she'd have her daughter around the house for one more year since she's going college at age  seventeen. One thing's for sure. I'm glad my daughter's birthday is in February. And if we have a third, I will plan accordingly.

A Great Miracle Happened Here

I know many of you have been perched on your inbox for an update about the holiday pageant. So sorry to have left you hanging out here for the last two weeks wondering…did they sing? Did they cry? Pout? Shout? Flail on the ground in a heap of red and green holiday-wear? In fact both kids were outstanding. My daughter went first. She didn't notice me (that was intentional) so she just stood with everyone in the line wearing her reindeer headband and shaking her jingle bells to the music of Feliz Navidad. She looked a little perplexed but she didn't cry. She didn't sing either, but since she doesn't talk it wasn't a huge disappointment. Then there were some other classes and finally the PreK kids. I was a ball of nerves. I was also trying to hold my antsy daughter and videotape the whole thing which was kind of a pain in the ass. The kids walked out and found their tape to stand on. My son was looking around for me so I waved to get his attention - potentially my downfall. He started to try to get to me through a sea of parents but I shushed him back to his spot. He held it together. And then the music started and so did their first number - a little interpretive dance I think. Not sure. But there he was doing all the moves, looking left and right to be in sync with his classmates. He even cracked a smile. And then it was the big "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" number. That's when a star was born. He sang, he danced. He had a big smile. He was charming, careful to stay near his tape marker. A natural performer. And there I was mouthing the words like the freak stage mom that I am. Yikes. I didn't know I had it in me.

Then after the performance there was the opportunity to go have a picture with Santa which I wasn't super excited about - namely because of the long line but also because this is the first holiday season when I'm finally having to explain Christmas and Hanukah and why his cousins on both sides celebrate both holidays and we only celebrate Hanukah. But I decided I wasn't going to make a big deal about it so we stood in line and by the time we got to the front, my kids were too scared to sit with Santa. And then it turns out that Santa was the Jewish Venezuelan preschool owner's sixteen-year-old son. He threw out a few Hebrew phrases to gain my kids' trust but they were having none of it. Anyway, we left the place aglow with pageant pride, ever wary of Hebrew-speaking Santas…

Highlights from our week with family in Santa Fe up next…