Kid and Caboodle

“I’ve had enough bike riding; now it’s time to get a little bit fatter!” — A.J., just before preparing to eat some chocolate

Mother’s Day 2009

A.J. (top left, on the deck), my mother (at right) and I

This morning my son decided to surprise my husband with a present.  He got up early, went downstairs to get a can of my husband’s favorite soda, then started cutting up paper to wrap it. Partway through, the scissors slipped and cut him slightly on the leg. According to my husband, our son yelled, but did not cry, and seemed just as upset about having to abandon his project as he was about getting hurt. My husband assured him that the present was our son’s thoughtfulness as much as it was the soda. And for me, our son’s actions were a gift as well.

My husband recently decided to shave off his beard because he thought it contained too much gray. When he explained his decision to our son, A.J. said, “What’s wrong with gray beards?  Gray beards are ok for normal life, and dark beards are ok for TV life.”

Today A.J.’s English teacher sent home a note asking us to help him practice retelling stories using the “take-home reading” books she sends every day. The problem is that the books he brings home are so simple they don’t really have plots to retell.

For example, the entire text of tonight’s book reads:

Ten
Ten buttons
Ten needles
Ten pins
Ten pieces of cloth
Ten zippers
Ten pom-poms
Ten costumes

So what’s the plot in this case? Someone is assembling the materials to sew ten costumes?

This “take-home reading” project has been going on for several months. When it began, the teacher told us that the books she would be sending home would be below A.J.’s reading level “to build confidence.” Although I appreciate the intent, I think these books may be so far below A.J.’s reading level that he is becoming bored. At home he is reading the “Magic Treehouse” and “Curious George” series independently, as well as Dr. Seuss books. (The Sneetches is one of his favorites.) I don’t think confidence in his reading skills is a problem with him. But perhaps he is having trouble demonstrating those skills to his teacher?

Yesterday I scolded A.J., my 6-year-old son, for abruptly shouting out a question while I was driving. He responded that his voice only has two settings — yell and mumble.

Last week my 6-year-old son took a quiz at school on Martin Luther King, Jr. One of the questions he had to answer was this:

Martin Luther King, Jr. was a/an:

A. Canadian
B. Hispanic
C. African American
D. Native American

My son answered “Native American.” His teacher marked the answer as “wrong.” I understand her perspective, but I find myself absurdly pleased my son was unable to identify MLK according to his race.

I have decided to stop playing the X-Box games Mater-National and Carbon. Both involve driving a car at very fast speeds to win races. I hate driving in real life, and I don’t find these virtual versions any better! I cannot control my game piece properly, so I find myself constantly smashing into walls and ending up in last place. At the end of the game, I wind up with a very sore hand and a murderous mood. I’ve decided I’m not going to play any more, no matter how much my son begs. I see no point in playing a game that does nothing except frustrate me; I have far better things to do with my time.

A.J.’s teacher e-mailed me to reiterate the school’s policy about birthday party invitations and suggested that I look in the PTA handbook for the phone numbers of the classmates A.J. wants to invite to our place next week.  Good idea.  The only problem is that I have no idea how to spell the names of some of A.J.’s friends.  Nevertheless, I looked in all the first-grade class lists at A.J.’s school and made a bunch of calls.  I managed to talk to two parents, and left hopefully comprehensible messages at three other numbers.  It was a little weird, since I don’t know anyone’s names, and vice versa.  I’m just hoping I got hold of the right families….

A.J. will be turning 6 on Tuesday.  He wanted to invite some friends from school to a party at our house to celebrate – one or two from his morning class, his afternoon class and his afterschool care program apiece – so I put together some invitations for him to pass out.  When he tried to hand them out, though, he was told by his morning teacher that unless he was inviting everyone in the class — about 26 kids — he could not invite anyone.  Oh.

I wonder if this policy holds true for all parties, or just birthdays?  I want A.J. to be able to get together with classmates outside of school so he can deepen his friendships.  But how can we arrange get-togethers if the school is so concerned about hurting the feelings of kids who are not invited to a private event?