Picket Fence Post

Item #1: School Celebration Overload

To celebrate Halloween with his classmates at school, my second grade son had “friendship salad,” where each member of the class was asked to contribute a piece of fruit. Members of my fourth grade daughter’s class were asked to bring in a pumpkin so students could carve them in class. My fourth grade son was asked to bring in an apple for a class project, and had a small party.

To celebrate Thanksgiving, both of my fourth graders’ classes are going to be making “friendship soup,” where each member of the class has been asked to contribute an ingredient, while parent were asked to additionally send in Crock Pots, utensils, bowls, etc. (The Girl has been asked to bring in two 48 ounce cans of chicken broth, while The Boy has been asked to bring in a can of corn niblets. That’s for a soup neither of them have said they’ll eat once it’s made.)

To celebrate “Winter” (not Christmas, not Hanukkah, not Ramadan), my fourth grade son brought home a form the other day asking each class member to bring in a new, wrapped book (no more than $5) for a book swap during the class “Winter” party. Scholastic book orders were attached to the note with the suggestion that we could easily order through them so we’d get the books in time for the party. (The note also said that requests for food and supplies for the “Winter” party will be forthcoming.) I’m certain that I’ll soon receive a similar note from The Girl.

When I received that note about the book swap – in a tough economic climate where people are worried about their jobs — I must say, I became irritated, even though my neighbor, who has a child in fifth grade, said the children have always loved the book swap event. Why couldn’t the kids pick a book they already own and wrap it up with handmade paper bag wrapping paper that they decorate themselves? It would promote recycling and still promote the joy of reading, as the note for the swap indicated was the point of the event. Maybe the kid donating the book could even write a note about why the book was entertaining.

I think what bothers me about this is that it’s coming in the middle of a crazy time of year. Taken alone, out of context, $5 for a book (plus wrapping paper) doesn’t seem like a big deal. But then I have to double the cost because I have two kids in the fourth grade. Then I factor in that the room parents for my three children’s classes will soon be asking for donations (usually $15-20) for gifts for the teachers. (We just went through this with the coaches of my kids’ sports teams where parents contributed a similar amount.) When you also consider the cost of the ingredients for friendship soups and salads, paper goods and store-bought food for a bunch of parties (due to allergies, most of the food has to be purchased so that ingredient are listed), the cost of the game we were asked to buy to contribute to a “game basket” for my second grader’s class as part of a school fundraiser, as well as the other requests that have come home from school in recent weeks and it adds up quickly.

My wish is that all of these in-school celebrations and the “gift-giving” could be made simpler, and occur less frequently. Oh, go ahead. Call me Scrooge.

Priceless Semi-Related Tangent: My preschool-aged nephew, who dressed as a skeleton for Halloween, didn’t have a Halloween party at his school. They had an ”I’m Not Scared” party instead. I kid you not.

UPDATE: My proposal to substitute used books for new books and use paperbag wrapping paper for the fourth grade book swap was shot down because, I was told, there are “reasonably priced” books in the Scholastic book order from which parents could choose. And there are “reasonably priced” books in that book order, but this is more of a principle thing at this point, trying to get away from more consumption. Parents are not ATMs.

(more…)

Item #1: Beware of the Mice

If you live in the MetroWest area outside of Boston and pulled one of those plastic Little Tikes Cozy Coupes from someone’s trash thinking it was your lucky day, boy were you wrong. The thing’s filled with mice.

My sister-in-law called me today and related the story of how, when my nephews were playing with their Cozy Coupe outside this week, one of them spotted a mouse sticking its head out of the hole where the steering wheel had been. (The steering wheel was busted soon after the boys got the car.) Horrified, my sister-in-law wheeled it away with the intent of dealing with it later until she realized there wasn’t just one mouse living INSIDE the plastic car, but a whole bunch of them.

She put the car out on its side on the street next to her trashcans this morning, but before the trash haulers arrived, she noticed the Cozy Coupe was gone. She then started feeling guilty that some unsuspecting parent had grabbed the car and might’ve put it inside his or her house not realizing that it’s filled with mice. They’re in for a big surprise.

Item #2: Old Christine Gets Guilted

Speaking of guilt . . . the latest episode of The New Adventures of Old Christine really hit home for me this week as it dealt with maternal guilt, specifically, Julia Louis Dreyfus’ character Christine feeling badly because she was working so much and missing things for her kid, including forgetting to submit the application for her 12-year-old to join a lizard club. She felt so badly that she missed the deadline — as well as a party she’d promise to attend — that she agreed to go on a date with the creepy head of the club in order to secure her son’s admission to the group. Only it didn’t go as planned. (Link to the video here.)

This week I missed several deadlines for my own kids. Papers requiring my signature and homework that I was supposed to initial and correct have been flooding my house like a never-ending onslaught of junk mail. For example, I forgot to sign The Youngest Son’s reading list one night (didn’t write down what he read) and we got the list back marked with a red question mark. Last night, I didn’t have the chance to listen to The Girl read me a passage aloud three times and then grade her reading skills. This morning I had to quickly write a note telling her teacher why the homework wasn’t done.

So when the lizard guy told Christine, “A good mother doesn’t miss deadlines,” I felt that one. Right in the gut.

(more…)

Actually, it’s not me who has the homework. Not nominally anyway. It’s two of my kids who have the assignments.

Which is apparently now my problem. Because they’ve been given assignments that require that I (or their father) drop everything and make sure that they’re completed TONIGHT.

My second grader has informed me that for tonight’s homework assignment, he and his parents must conduct a family fire drill, test all the fire alarms in the house and discuss what we’re supposed to do in the event of an emergency. (That’s on top of the 20 minutes of reading a parent is supposed to supervise each night.)

My fourth grade daughter told me I have to let her use my computer TONIGHT so she can go to a web site, “look stuff up” and then write some paragraphs about it. (Yeah, I’m lettin’ a 10-year-old near the internet without my supervision or a parent lurking around. Not. And, by the way, I’m USING my computer right now. For work.)

My twin fourth graders also have these delightful fluency assignments where, on Mondays through Thursdays, a parent is supposed to listen to the student read aloud an excerpt from a book (sometimes a poem) they’ve been given. (A few weeks ago, the passage was about ants and how ant queens would go to other colonies and kill the reigning monarch.) Depending on what skill is being tested that day (accuracy, expression, rate of speed, or all of ‘em), you have to grade the child on a four-point scale. And you have to do this three times in a row each night. That’s when it’s not Thursday and all three kids have to study for a spelling test, and my daughter has to complete a math worksheet in three minutes while you watch her, time her and then grade her work.

Don’t get me wrong. I love knowing what my children are studying and witness them progressing academically. It’s part of my job as a parent to look over their homework. I want to know what books they’re reading. Those things are important, as is the ability of the children to safely navigate the internet and complete math problems correctly.

What I don’t like is the fact that assignments get dumped on the parents with no notice, when we might have other things to do, such as our own work, shuttling other children in the family around, and, oh, I don’t know, life? It’s one thing to give the children an assignment that they can complete on their own; it’s another to give them an assignment that requires direct parental involvement and is due TOMORROW. A little notice would be much appreciated. Many families I know are already harried and running on the power of caffeinated beverage alone (particularly given the hideously late night antics of the Red Sox). It doesn’t take much to send our delicately balanced days off-kilter.

But, I’ve got to go now . . . I haven’t graded my daughter’s fluency assignment yet, nor have I overseen the Youngest Boy’s reading (make sure he does his reading) or helped him with his fire escape plan. I also have to track down the Eldest Boy, because there’s certain to be some parental assignment lurking in his backpack. I was planning to take the kids to the library late this afternoon, since this is the only day when they don’t have some sort of sports practice or game. But, with all this homework I’ve been given, I don’t know if that’s going to be possible.

If I’m not mistaken, I finished the 2nd and 4th grades a long, long time ago, in a lifetime that seems so very far away . . .

My town doesn’t have neighborhood schools. It doesn’t have crossing guards. There’s virtually nothing that encourages students to walk to school.

When my three kids were attending the grade school less than a mile away from my house, I spoke with the principal about having them walk to school and was told that there were no crossing guards therefore I’d have to walk with them each way because there was a street to cross. When I inquired about having them ride bikes, the principal paused — this, apparently was an odd inquiry, even though there is a small bike rack in front of the school – and repeated that a parent had to accompany the kids.

So for the one year that my children attended the same school, we tried to walk and/or ride bikes or scooters as often as possible, enabled by the fact that I was working from home. By the time my older children reached an age where I’d consider allowing them to walk to school solo, they’d already moved on to another school across town.

I was reminded of my kids’ walking to school experiences when I read a page one story in the Boston Globe today about parents who are trying to spark a ”walk-to-school movement.” “One major obstacle remains,” the article said, “parents who are fearful of letting their children leave home on their own.” The article mentioned that in several Boston suburbs parents are trying to organize “walking groups” of children supervised by adults, and that school districts are hiring “walking coordinators” and enlisting the help of crossing guards.

One stat in the article stood out: 42 percent of school children walked to school 40 years ago, compared to only 15 percent today. Why is this the case? The article indicated that the trend away from neighborhood schools, as well as busier schedules could be blamed. Plus, if today’s kids require a parental supervisor that wouldn’t work if parents have jobs where they can’t show up late in the mornings or if they can’t leave work in order to walk the kids home. And, if you’ve got students attending multiple schools, there’s another strike against walking. Meanwhile, all we hear about is childhood obesity.

The answer? I wish we could go back to the days of neighborhood schools and retiree crossing guards like when I was a kid. I don’t think that’s going to be happening any time soon, at least in my town.

If, however, you live close enough to a school where you could consider having your children walk, check out the Fearless Walkers web site, by a Stoneham, Mass. parent who told the Globe, “I feel when [the students] walk the half-mile to school and get the fresh air, they sit more comfortably in their seats in class and are ready to learn.” There’s also the Massachusetts Safe Routes to School web site which promotes “alternative” ways to get to school, and a federal Centers for Disease Control and Prevention program called Kids Walk to School.

Image credit: Michigan Safe Routes.

Massachusetts Gov. Deval Patrick has the opportunity to inject some sanity into Massachusetts school systems when it comes to the classroom placement of twins, triplets or what’s called ”higher order multiples” (meaning quads, quintuplets, etc.). A bill to allow parents to choose whether they want their twin or triplet children in the same or different classrooms has made it through the state House and Senate and has landed in Patrick’s hands.

As a mother of twins, I heartily cheer on this empowering move for parents who know the children better than anyone else. In August 2002, I wrote a piece for Parents and Kids Magazine about classroom placement for twin kindergartners and found that a vast number of education specialists believe that the decision should be left up to the parents. However in Massachusetts, many school principals continued to cling to policies mandating separating multiples, treating their unique status as if it were a virus that needed to be stamped out.

As I researched the piece, I spoke with folks who’d been involved in a local mothers of twins organization,  many of whom opted to separate their children in kindergarten because they felt it would be the best move. When my boy-girl twins were entering kindergarten, The Spouse and I wanted them together (had to buck the “we always separate twins” mantra), but by first grade, we wanted them separated. A one-size-fits-all-just-separate them policy is outdated and doesn’t reflect contemporary research in the field of multiples, nor does it recognize that parents of multiples have a variety of opinions on the subject.

The authors of The Art of Parenting Twins wrote, “It is the single most important event in the expansion of their children’s social environment (after preschool and day care), and signals a major separation from parents and home.” A Boston University professor told the Boston Globe that stripping a twin of his or her lifelong partner at a time of major change was an unnecessary move, if the children weren’t ready for it: “If a 5-year-old child would feel more happy with their twin with them, why would we not do that?”

The National Organization of Mothers of Twins, which has a produced a booklet on the issue, says no studies support the age-old contention that twins are better off separated and advocates a “flexible placement policy through the early elementary school years.”

When we received our children’s school calendars in the mail last month, I sat down with my digital and old fashioned paper calendars to plug in the important dates, including Curriculum Night for my twin fourth graders this coming Thursday.

On previous Curriculum Nights/Open Houses, The Spouse and I have brought all three of our kids along with us. We’ve all listened to the school principals, school nurses and so on, until it was time to visit individual classrooms. During Open Houses at my twins’ schools, The Spouse and I would play man-to-man D, each accompanying one of the twins to his or her classroom. If there was time (which there often wasn’t), we parents would swap and race to see the other twin’s classroom. That’s precisely what we were planning to do at this week’s Fourth Grade Curriculum Night. Then we received this letter on late Tuesday afternoon:

(more…)

I’ve gotta hand it to Bruce Handy, a writer and deputy editor at Vanity Fair. He created a sarcastic and sharply humorous phony school form for the New York Times that hits the inanity of the dynamics between parents and schools squarely on the mark. (Go here to see the fake form in full.)

The faux parental registration form for a school known as the “Elm Street School” starts off by saying:

“Greetings, parents. We’re sure you’re every bit as excited about the new school year as we are. (Sigh.) Please take the time to fill out the following registration form. Send it in on the first day of school with your fully inoculated, adequately medicated, lice-free son/daughter.”

Among the pieces of information requested on the form:

– The name of the student’s test-prep tutor.

– The name of the student’s playdate coach.

– Whether the child has dietary restrictions, allergies, biting problems, attention-seeking disorder, mange or early-onset despair.

My favorite part: After the line, “This year I will volunteer for,” there are the following volunteer opportunities from which to choose:

“a. Class parent.

b. The auction.

c. The spring fair.

d. All of the above.

e. None of the above? O.K., then excuse us while we go and work on those college recommendation letters, if you catch our drift.”

Second favorite part of Handy’s satirical form: Asking parents to promise not to “check my BlackBerry during the holiday concert and/or think unsupportive thoughts during the fifth grade string section’s performance of ‘Dreidel, Dreidel.’”

Item #1: School Supply Woes in NYC

When it comes to crazy-long school supply lists, apparently my kids’ public schools aren’t the only ones doling them out. The New York Times ran a page one piece about schools in the New York area and elsewhere which are asking parents to shell out big bucks for supplies, including one mom who had ”10 boxes of baby wipes” on her kindergartener’s list.

“. . . [A]ccording to the New York State School Boards Association, supplies run an average of $100 for high school students and $60 for middle schoolers,” the paper reported. In some school districts, the school supply lists have grown so large that school boards have stepped in and placed caps on how much families should be asked to spend:

“In the suburbs of Rochester, the Gates Chilli Central School District last year capped the amount that parents were expected to spend on supplies at $10 a child, adding $100,000 to the budget to make up the difference. The sprawling Fayette County Public Schools in Lexington, Ky., set the limit this fall of $120 a child for the year, including field trips.”

Item #2: How Palin Does It

Answer (according to press reports): Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin has a husband named Todd. Who’s the father of their five kids. Who works part-time. And takes care of the children (all but the baby and the eldest – who’s deploying to Iraq this month – are in school all day). The Palin family, you see, works together. Just like the Obama family, only no one’s asking Barack Obama how he’s managing to parent his two school-aged daughters while he’s on the campaign trail. So let’s back off the Palin-is-a-bad-mom garbage, why don’t we. It’s an unbecomingly sexist attack. ‘Nuf said.

Item #3: ‘Hockey Mom’ Humor

The line of the night, as Sarah Palin accepted the Republican’s VP nomination: “You know [what] they say [is] the difference between a hockey mom and a pit-bull? [*pause*] Lipstick.”

Palin’s speech — including the lipstick comment, at 8:50 – can be found here.

Dear Teenaged Staples Employees with Whom I Spoke Yesterday,

You were all so very pleasant yesterday when I asked several of you where I could locate Trapper Keepers in your store.

Clutching three sets of school supply lists for my three kids (for items which ultimately cost me $130 . . . and I didn’t buy everything on the lists and made many unauthorized substitutions with store brands) I must’ve looked like a crazy lady to whom you gave quizzical looks. Was my scary/stressed out demeanor the reason why, when I asked, “Where are your Trapper Keepers?” you kept showing me intricate $20 zippered contraptions which were clearly meant for high school or higher-level students? Or were you just not in the mood to deal with me?

“No, that cannot possibly be what the teacher wants,” I said, pointing to one of the lists. “This if for a fourth grader.”

When I continued to get nothing but vacant looks, I dashed back to your humongous school supply display, grabbed a two-pocket folder WITHOUT fasteners (per teachers’ requests) and held it up to an employee. “See? This says ‘Trapper’ on it. That means that somewhere, there’s a Trapper Keeper for this to go into.”

More blankness. “Sorry,” one kind young girl said with a smile, returning to her work of stacking merchandise.

I received similar responses from other staffers whose glances bestowed unspoken pity upon me, the poor woman who, minutes earlier, had been muttering to her fourth grade son, “The teacher’s just gonna have to deal with these substitutions . . . HOW many of those? Ten? No way.”

Then, after 45 migraine-inducing minutes of trying to locate the nearly 40 items on the three lists (not including the ones I didn’t buy), I accidentally stumbled across a small Mead display. With Trapper Keepers. For $6.99. I brought a light blue Trapper Keeper to the front of the store where the nice young girl was still stacking the $20 zippered items and said, “I just thought you should know, THIS is a Trapper Keeper. It’s at the end of Aisle 3, in case any other parents come in here looking for it.”

In the future, perhaps you kind, polite and smiling young folks could put in a little effort into discerning if your store actually carries an item for which an already frazzled parent, clutching a vast school supply list, is looking instead of just providing blank stares.

Happy Fall!

Sincerely,

Meredith O’Brien

Image credit: Ironically, from Office Depot.

Wow, I’ve gotten more responses to the posting of the school supply lists my three kids received than I have about other hot button topics as of late . . . The folks over at the Boston-oriented blog, Universal Hub, wrote about the lists I posted on the Picket Fence Post earlier this week and there have been comments slamming the teachers for compiling detailed lists for everything from scissors to twin-pocket folders, 10 glue sticks and boxes of tissues.

Universal Hub commenter Lynn asked:

“Could this be the teacher’s way of driving home that the school system is underfunded? That was the first thing that came to mind when I [saw] those lists, since I remember, oh so many years ago, most of that stuff (scissors, glue, markers, crayons, ruler) was provided for us. Heck, sometimes paper and composition books were as well.”

But others were having no part of that line of argument, calling the lists excessive and nit-picky. SwirlyGrrl said teachers who were really in need wouldn’t ask for the kinds of stuff on the lists:

“Micromanagers and control freaks, [in my humble opinion], get real specific and demand some needlessly expensive things without regard for the burdens they impose in shopping time and cost. If you fail to produce these items, you get chewed out for ‘not caring about your kid’s education’ . . .”

Have any of your children received their school supply lists yet? For comparison’s sake, it would be great if you could post your lists in the comments section below so we can get a sense of whether this is just MY kids’ school system, or whether this long-listitis is more widespread an issue.

Bring out your lists!