Elementary Schools

Kid writes words in green and captions in black and believes most people can't remember to turn off the lights when they leave a room because it is part of the Human Condition. Sassy writes in blue and believes in defending the people who forget to turn off the lights when they leave a room on the premise that they are returning in just a second (and after a show on the Food Network) to get and/or do something.

You know what happens when you send paperwork home with a kid, and that paperwork says, "Dear parents, your child is attending a Stupid School. The federal government really wants us to tell you that and to give you a chance to enroll your child in a Non-Stupid School." (I virtually swear almost truthfully, the paperwork is about as blunt as all that.) Then you ask the front office of the Stupid School, "hey, what's the deal with this?" And they respond completely in shock, "what? You got paperwork that says that? Clearly you're wrong, the graffiti on the walls here is spelled correctly in every instance!" 

You know what happens then? That's when you know a shit-tornado called "parents" is going to roll through your office. Or these guys.

God I love this show

Now I just want to point out: Sassy approved none of this introduction, so perhaps we're going to end up starting over anyway.

I’d been trying so hard to give Teh Stupid Shcool a fair shot, but in all honesty I was not impressed. Yes, the kiddo was going to learn Spanish faster than we ever did; a bonus, considering I like to bargain at the farmer’s market. But then Teh Note came (10 days after it was dated, btw) telling us that the school was officially under-par and the district would provide transportation to other schools free of charge. WAT.

I'm not entirely sure why spelling has become a problem for Sassy, but I'm going to imagine it has to do with relearning phonetics with a five year old and move on. (See what I live with on a daily basis? Absurd.) So we received a letter telling us this little school has been left behind. There's legislature about all this. So they are on the fast track toward improvement in that there school. But herein lies the problem to us rational, sane folks -- which I should amend to just "me," since clearly Sassy dropped some brain cells somewhere between the T and H keys of her keyboard -- the school is vastly overcrowded. It puts the entirety of New York or an "underground" Goat Punishment show to shame. So it was like this: Stupid School letter + perceived overcrowding = GET OUT OF SCHOOL FREE card. So we cashed it in. Well, I cashed it in while Sassy was trying to relearn how to spell "the." But that kind of jumps to the end, so pretend I didn't just tell you we cashed it in.

The thing is, the child in question seemed pretty psyched about the school he was attending already. I chalk this up to his general natural excitement over anything not him, which has included up until this point: touching third rails and chasing balls into crowded roadways. In other words, maybe judging things by his level of excitement is a poor notion. So he was psyched on his school until like, the day we decided to really talk to the school office folks about their letter stating they are a school of dumber learning.  And then, chaos. Imagine a flood of urine and pants, scabs on the knees, just all manner of what the hell is going on here with our kid? Which was like this sign from God -- I'd prefer it if, next time, God didn't use pants peeing as part of His Grand Designs though -- that, hey, let's get him out of this overcrowded school where a teacher's inability to sort out bathroom lines has somewhat traumatic (and warm) effects on kids' pants.

That paragraph was all manner of nonlinear confusion, wasn't it? The gist of it was: we were uncertain about switching schools, even once we decided we wanted to on account of the aforementioned overcrowding, because the child seemed happy. But then it turned out, what do children know anyway, and we like cashing things in, let's be honest. 

I wanted to handle the decision to switch schools as fairly as possible, but let's be clear: the kiddo having the best chance at success is totally our responsibility. Hands down. I'm empathetic to the overcrowded school's plight: there are too many children in the classrooms, too many languages in each classroom at this young age, with not enough teachers, supplies, or classrooms to go around. Given the chance to switch him to a new school (which was a night/day difference, and much friendlier) we researched our options, made about 400 phone calls, visited several campuses, and wrote countless emails and texts...then jumped on it.  And it's worked out great so far.

Schools have been changed, therefore. Just in time for Back to School night, too. Sassy and I, in a rare instance of being seen publicly together, went to this little Back to School night shindig on his first day at his new school. And it was exactly what we expected from a school and classroom to begin with. A nice teacher. A tidy classroom. Legible signs and instructions for kids and parents alike. Colorful nonsensical things littering the walls and tables that signify meaningful things to children. And 100% less pants peeing.

That is what the Ishes were up to this past week. Now I'll leave the metaphorical floor open, as it were, for Sassy to interject something of "worth" here. I'm stating it now, for the record, if there is a unicorn anywhere on this open floor once I step away, timeouts will abound.

Hey look.

This is 100% real and honest

Hey, look again!

Slats and convicts

And now, we dance.