Wednesday, November 19

Random Notes from the Front Lines

The object of the board game Pretty, Pretty Princess is to get the crown, two earrings, bracelet, and necklace (look, it was a gift!). You can't win, though, if you have the black ring. We were playing, just me and Pie. It's Pie's favorite game (surprise!). Pie had everything but one earring. She landed on the black ring. "No!" she shrieked. "I don't want that! Here." And she moved her piece one extra spot to get the last earring. Very pleased with herself, she announced, "Now I'm a pretty, pretty princess!"

***

Reason #326 I love my neighborhood

Yesterday, at kindergarten drop-off on our first frost-bitten day, one of the moms brought a Thermos of hot chocolate. And the real stuff, made with vahlrona chocolate. None of that Swiss Miss crap. She topped everyone's coffee cups off with the stuff. What a heavenly way to start a day. Yes, that's right folks. I have nothing snarky to say here. I just really thought it was a nice moment that I'd share. Don't worry--this moment will pass quickly. Oh wait, there it goes...

***

Me: Why didn't you put away Doodles's Leapster when you were done with it?
Pie [whispering, arms held wide]: Because I didn't want to.

Oh, silly me. Of course.

***

In the car ride home today from swimming class, Doodles said to me: Mom! You won’t believe what happened today!
Me: What?
Doodles: During snack time, Mae (not her real name) came up to me... and she kissed me!
Me: She did?
Doodles: Yeah! On the forehead! For no reason at all!
Me: No reason at all?
Doodles: No reason at all! Mae kissed me on the forehead. And then all the girls laughed.
Me: Oh, they did?
Doodles: Yeah. Why did Mae do that?
Me: I have no idea...
Doodles: It was so strange!

So here I am, mentally picking out his senior prom outfit, when I report this to his mother. Only Doodles apparently is back-up guy. Because Mae told her mother that she was in love with another boy in class, Z., only another girl, J., was going to marry him. Ah, the complicated romances of kindergarten...

***

Time to start planning for next year, when I have my yard back. I'm TOTALLY hitting the after holiday sales for one of these.

***

Reason #327 that I love our neighborhood:

I love Pie's preschool. Love, love, love it. And I really, really love the moms and dads I've met there (and I think it's so nice that I have gotten to know dads--they're definitely an active part of the life there). I've made some really good parent friends. But the thing is, at Pie's preschool, I feel like I'm the bad influence. I'm always the one saying, "My daughter did what? Oy. Time to hit the martinis," or "Damn, why don't they serve wine at these things?" or, "It's a Wednesday! That calls for bourbon!" And I have to say, I get shot down every time and I feel like I've somehow gotten a reputation for being the juvenile delinquent mom.

But kindergarten--ah, kindergarten is a whole new world! Today I did my volunteer stint in the classroom. Workboard. I helped kids find words that started with the letters in "G-I-V-E T-H-A-N-K-S." I prompted them to write a sentence. I supervised some serious coloring and cutting. Two other moms and the teacher were also working the room. After the kids were on their way to lunch, I made the comment, "Let's go get our martinis now." One responded, "I'm more of a margarita person," and the other one said, "I make a mean gimlet. Let's go back to my place for drinks now! Seriously, I can mix up just about any drink."

Friends, let me tell you, it was painful being the responsible adult, but I pulled through, knowing I had just an hour till I had to pick Pie up from preschool. I apologized profusely, not wanting to be that mom, you know, the mom who doesn't drink (aaagggg!). The mom understood, and she promised me that anytime she's happy to mix up a drink.

"It's true," another mom said. "It doesn't take much to get her to pop the cork."

"It's always five o'clock somewhere," she assured me.

Be still my heart. I've found my home. And it is kindergarten. Let the drinking begin.

Labels: , ,

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home