Sunday, January 30, 2011

school (eep)

I just finished putting Daniel to bed. It's the eve of his last day as a preschooler and tomorrow is out last day of being together, always.

I'm not looking forward to school, not at all.

A week or so ago, someone asked Daniel if HE was looking forward to school. He used to tell me he was, but he replied that that he's not, he just wants to be with his mummy. I wasn't there so I didn't hear him, and maybe that's why his answer changed.

So we don't talk about school anymore, and today Daniel told me himself that talking about school makes him sad.

Now let's talk about WHERE he's starting school.

Daniel was going to start at the Catholic school up the road (which, for perspective's sake, is like, FIVE MINUTES up the road. If you're WALKING), so we drove twenty kilometers along the expressway to check out a Montessori school because the directors at his preschool had mentioned it existed. Maybe NEXT year, in 2012, because a) TWENTY FUCKING KILOMETERS, b) the school already had 35 applications for twenty spaces, and preference was given to the kids who went to THEIR preschool, and something like 34 applications were from there, and c) the Catholic education system believes every child deserves a Catholic education ie if you're poor, they'll waive the fees. So a free private school education was offered to us even though I didn't even ask. The single mother thing was enough for them which, thank you Jesus. If I believed in you, I'd think you were the Bomb.

So anyway, he was set to start school and I wasn't going to go broke saving him from the cesspool of public schools in our area, yay.

When we met with the principal (who looks and has mannerisms so! very! much! like Daniel's father)(and his name is STEVE too, which is what Daniel's father is called by most people), he, personlly, was still two weeks away from issuing invitations to enroll, and he wasn't even going to CONSIDER Daniel because he already had 35 applications, we were only there to think about Grade 1. Maybe.

So we looked around the school and Daniel occupied himself by asking random questions about random shit, if memory serves.

The we went to Steve's office to talk about the school, and Daniel was still being all "YABBERYABBERYABBERTHOMAS?YABBERUNRELATEDTOANYTHINGYABBER", and we the grown ups were all "bladibla, 2012?", and then Steve said "I'm sorry. I keep INTERVIEWING you instead of talking with you, so I'd like to offer Daniel a place right now, to start here next term."

Well fuck. How could I turn THAT down?

To summarise, if you've missed the whole "MY kid is SHIT HOTTER than YOURS, okay, maybe not YOURS" tone here, Daniel impressed the dude SO MUCH, the guy invited us to enrol RIGHT NOW, which was TWO WHOLE WEEKS ahead of ANY other invitations going out because he hadn't CHOSEN any others yet.

And now, not only do I have to contend with my son starting school, I also have to get my head around being in the car for the rest of my LIFE because TWENTY KILOMETERS, people. EVERY DAY. TWICE.



Hey, that's great!

(It is great, right? I mean I know, not being with the awesome little dude and all, but I remember you mentioning Montessori in a very positive way before now, so congrats to Daniel for getting in. And I know that me being stoked for you both doesn't make it any easier for you, but I am still stoked for you both.)

By Blogger Mary, at 7:42 AM  

Oh Mary, it IS great! I went through this period of gulping back the tears whenever I listened to Justin Beiber from about October last year. I know, don't ask. Anyway, sdchool had been all sorted and decsions had been made when the directors mentioned maybe D could do reception at THEIR preschool, the virtual garment rending stopped. I could listen to Justin Beiber and appreciate is his lyrics (srsly though, he's SIXTEEN. I wanna know where he learned so much about love. And then I want him to give am a REALLY good talking to) without a box of tissues on hand.

I knew I was Bla about Daniel moving on to mainstream school, but I hadn't realised how SAD I was about it until Justin Beiber stopped breaking my heart.

Your stokedness DOES make it easier, because I love a good pat on the back :)

Love you, xx

By Blogger aibee, at 10:08 AM  

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