I did not cry, I just spent money. (Pats self on back...sort of.)
After the months of trying to decide where we'd put our kiddo, we stuck by the decision we made back in April, and off our Big Girl went to her first day of kindergarten. Actually, her first morning of kindergarten, and now she has to wait over a week to start for real. Expect lots of adventures these next few days, as the child is so very extremely excited about going to school.
Big Girl went to preschool last year, four mornings a week. That followed a year off of preschool which followed a term of preschool and a gigantic dose of distress about a preschool that did not quite live up to our expectations. Fortunately, last year's preschool was awesome, and we had no separation anxiety (not on Big Girl's part, anyway, just mine), no real problems at all.
Along came kindergarten registration. We had too many choices. Public non-religious, public Christian, public Catholic, private Christian. Schools in our neighbourhood, schools across town, bus service or not. Schools with before and after school care, schools that might get before and after school care, schools near my parents' house (and thus with free before and after school care). Home schooling, de-schooling, un-schooling. French immersion and francophone schools (we're not francophone, but I'm haltingly bilingual). Montessori program. Full days or half days. Teachers we were excited about, teachers we were...less excited about, teachers we knew nothing about. New schools and old schools (old meaning about fifty years old here). Every possible flavour of leadership, philosophy, tone, etc.: sports, community service and citizenship, music, early literacy.
It's not like we spent a lot of time thinking about this or anything. It's not like I'm a teacher, child of a teacher, married to a teacher.
DaddySutra and I somehow came to consensus. It was far easier than I imagined it would be. I have my official reasons, but mostly I just went with my intuition or gut or whatever.
I suspect that if I checked a map, I'd find that we chose the school that is farthest from Baby Girl's preschool. Twice a week, I get to drop both kids off in the morning, and seeing that I'm chronically late, I'm not really looking forward to that. It's not like it's any gigantic distance, we're not that big of a city (well under the 100 000 mark).
We picked a Catholic school, which is publicly funded in the Great White North. You don't have to be Catholic, but it makes things easier if you are. By "are" I mean we have proof of baptism, which they ask for. They don't ask if you have been to church recently, if you are married, if you say prayers with your kids, or if you intend to get the kids baptized. By registering your child in that school, you agree to the religious instruction. Are we totally on board with that? I guess we have to be.
After the pondering, the meetings, the phone calls to the important people came the shopping for the first day of school outfit and the shoes and the supplies and the eco-friendly lunch kit. Then the waiting, which is hard when you are five and want to be at school right now, and harder when you're...errrr...probably the oldest mom in kindergarten because you have little worry attacks and you just don't understand how your first born can be going to school already.
Loaded in the car, actually on time, the girls cute as buttons. We find a parking space and watch the local TV news van pass us to park even closer to the school. I see a bench in front of the school and immediately think "photo opp." My girls are even cuter in this moment. I turn and see the TV lady with the camera on her shoulder and give her a big grin. (I don't realize that she is filming us already.) She approaches and asks if she can interview us. I don't hesitate. Squee! Fifteen seconds of fame!
My Big Girl is shy, but still gives some answers, her enthusiasm showing through regardless. I get my turn to answer and I hope that my marginally coherent answers compensate for my omitted shower. The camera captures us entering the school, my Baby Girl skipping, Big Girl dwarfed by her big backpack.
We spend twenty minutes in the classroom with our girl, then are gently sent on our way for the next couple hours. Baby Girl and I occupy ourselves with errands, a quick coffee date, and a visit to the park beside the school. An hour later, after lunch at home, I'm consoling my Big Girl who is just so sad because she didn't get to stay for a whole day, and will have to wait a whole week to go back and start for real.
After the months of trying to decide where we'd put our kiddo, we stuck by the decision we made back in April, and off our Big Girl went to her first day of kindergarten. Actually, her first morning of kindergarten, and now she has to wait over a week to start for real. Expect lots of adventures these next few days, as the child is so very extremely excited about going to school.
Big Girl went to preschool last year, four mornings a week. That followed a year off of preschool which followed a term of preschool and a gigantic dose of distress about a preschool that did not quite live up to our expectations. Fortunately, last year's preschool was awesome, and we had no separation anxiety (not on Big Girl's part, anyway, just mine), no real problems at all.
Along came kindergarten registration. We had too many choices. Public non-religious, public Christian, public Catholic, private Christian. Schools in our neighbourhood, schools across town, bus service or not. Schools with before and after school care, schools that might get before and after school care, schools near my parents' house (and thus with free before and after school care). Home schooling, de-schooling, un-schooling. French immersion and francophone schools (we're not francophone, but I'm haltingly bilingual). Montessori program. Full days or half days. Teachers we were excited about, teachers we were...less excited about, teachers we knew nothing about. New schools and old schools (old meaning about fifty years old here). Every possible flavour of leadership, philosophy, tone, etc.: sports, community service and citizenship, music, early literacy.
It's not like we spent a lot of time thinking about this or anything. It's not like I'm a teacher, child of a teacher, married to a teacher.
DaddySutra and I somehow came to consensus. It was far easier than I imagined it would be. I have my official reasons, but mostly I just went with my intuition or gut or whatever.
I suspect that if I checked a map, I'd find that we chose the school that is farthest from Baby Girl's preschool. Twice a week, I get to drop both kids off in the morning, and seeing that I'm chronically late, I'm not really looking forward to that. It's not like it's any gigantic distance, we're not that big of a city (well under the 100 000 mark).
We picked a Catholic school, which is publicly funded in the Great White North. You don't have to be Catholic, but it makes things easier if you are. By "are" I mean we have proof of baptism, which they ask for. They don't ask if you have been to church recently, if you are married, if you say prayers with your kids, or if you intend to get the kids baptized. By registering your child in that school, you agree to the religious instruction. Are we totally on board with that? I guess we have to be.
After the pondering, the meetings, the phone calls to the important people came the shopping for the first day of school outfit and the shoes and the supplies and the eco-friendly lunch kit. Then the waiting, which is hard when you are five and want to be at school right now, and harder when you're...errrr...probably the oldest mom in kindergarten because you have little worry attacks and you just don't understand how your first born can be going to school already.
Loaded in the car, actually on time, the girls cute as buttons. We find a parking space and watch the local TV news van pass us to park even closer to the school. I see a bench in front of the school and immediately think "photo opp." My girls are even cuter in this moment. I turn and see the TV lady with the camera on her shoulder and give her a big grin. (I don't realize that she is filming us already.) She approaches and asks if she can interview us. I don't hesitate. Squee! Fifteen seconds of fame!
My Big Girl is shy, but still gives some answers, her enthusiasm showing through regardless. I get my turn to answer and I hope that my marginally coherent answers compensate for my omitted shower. The camera captures us entering the school, my Baby Girl skipping, Big Girl dwarfed by her big backpack.
We spend twenty minutes in the classroom with our girl, then are gently sent on our way for the next couple hours. Baby Girl and I occupy ourselves with errands, a quick coffee date, and a visit to the park beside the school. An hour later, after lunch at home, I'm consoling my Big Girl who is just so sad because she didn't get to stay for a whole day, and will have to wait a whole week to go back and start for real.
Luckeeeee! Get to be on tv and all...
So many kindergarten choices. My head would've exploded. I have pretty much been handed my choices by Early Intervention and the public school system, but I guess I lucked out in that I am more than happy with how things have turned out so far. Still trying to come to terms with Wavy's twice-weekly "Jesus Time" with the Lutherans, though. Heh.
Posted by: kelly | September 07, 2009 at 12:57 AM