Domestic Psychology

Dear Kindergarten teacher,

// September 29th, 2010 // 1 Comment » // parenting, school

I am certain that you have a lengthy list of observations and advice to help my youngest child be a better student. I really do want to work as a team to help Evan. I’m actually quite surprised that I have not been called in for a conference with you or the Vice Principal before now. It’s no secret that Evan is extremely free spirited and more than slightly indulged by all of his older siblings. His parents might occasionally giggle when they should be tsk-tsking.

That said, please do not mention Ritalin during our conference tomorrow. If you do, I will be so busy having a silent monologue in my head that I won’t hear anything else you say to me. Evan does not need medicating. He needs to know that there is a time and place for creative antics. He doesn’t need that creativity numbed with chemicals. He needs to learn self control. He doesn’t need something else to control him. Evan is awesome.

Trusting you with valuables

// September 28th, 2010 // 1 Comment » // school, teenagers

The household mailbox has become the girl teen’s mailbox. For the past few months, the percent of mail for her has dramatically increased while the amount for the household accountant has remained constant. Every day brings new brochures, catalogs and letters from colleges that are eager to have her as a student. While it is possible that she gets an above average amount because she is choosing two colleges, one for January and one for August, I suspect that this monsoon of paperwork is in every high school senior’s mailbox.

In my fantasy world, colleges wouldn’t market only to students. They would have packets of information targeting parents of 17-year-olds. Parents want statistics and policies from school safety and security departments. We want to know what student services have in place to identify and intervene when students are in emotional distress. We want to know that you can be entrusted with valuables.

Academics are the responsibility of our college bound teens. Safety is a different matter altogether. I want more than a text message when the campus is on lockdown. I want a safety net to reduce the need for those lockdowns. You want tens of thousands of my dollars in your school and community? Impress ME.

leaving on a jet plane

// September 25th, 2010 // No Comments » // Doug, parenting, travel

In a month, we are taking the youngest children on a mini-adventure. The part of the adventure they can’t stop talking about is their first ride in an airplane. As with all things that involve children, there is much behind the scenes planning involved. I’m not an experienced flier, but I think I have the airplane part of the trip mentally organized.

I want to arrive at the airport early enough to let the children watch other people go through security and answer any questions they have before we get in the security line. I’ll dress the children and I in slip-on shoes. I might wear a wireless bra even if it means risking my boobs falling on the ground and getting lost in the airport. The children and I will empty our pockets into the luggage that we are checking and there will be no teeny-tiny toys, toys that roll when dropped or toys without volume control allowed. Everyone will visit the potty just before we enter the security area. Going through security, one parent will be at each end and the children will remain between us.

Doug is planning too. He wants to wear cargo pants and a SeV so that he can carry the Kindle, iPhone, DSi, extra batteries, power cords, tripod, juggling balls, sunglasses, tickets, fidget toys and everything that he usually carries in his manbag (It’s a purse). That will leave his hands free to carry children in crowds.

After pondering Doug’s plan, I have decided that I will be at the front of our family parade and Doug will be the caboose. He can catch a later flight when he finally makes it through security.

my car is magic

// September 22nd, 2010 // 1 Comment » // life, travel

I drive children all over town. This school, that school, scouts, meetings and activities are the dots that I connect day after day. With all that driving, you would think that the gas station is a regular stop on my routes, but it isn’t. My car is magic. It never needs gasoline. Every few days, the gas tank in my car is magically full again. I think it happens at night. I guess the car could be autogenic and generating its’ own fuel. It’s possible that there is another explanation for my bottomless gas tank. Maybe the shoemaker’s elves have branched out into fuel delivery. Perhaps unicorns, leprechauns or mogwai are responsible for keeping my car’s fuel tank full. Regardless of how it happens, the magic never fails to make my day a little easier. Thank you magic car.

TCAPs: No jolts here

// September 21st, 2010 // 5 Comments » // parenting, school

The front page of yesterday’s paper warned parents to be prepared for a shock to the system when their child brings home last year’s TCAP scores. It comes after MONTHS of notes, e-mails, articles and parent meetings saying the exact same thing. The TCAPs have been so hyped that I can’t believe anyone is going to be surprised by good OR bad results. I’m even willing to go out on a limb and predict our family’s results.

First, is the middle child who was in the eighth grade last year. At last year’s TCAP meeting, the test booklet was distributed with the scores to help parents understand the areas of concern to their child. Ideally, it was to be used to create very individualized tutoring plans. My child’s scores were excellent, but when I asked him how he felt about the test without showing him the scores, he replied that he felt pressured by the time limits. So, I had him sit at the kitchen table and take the test again. He was told that there were no time limits, but in less than the allotted time, he scored perfectly. In every area of the test, he missed zero problems. The TCAP is a useless measure for my middle child. I may have him take the ACT this summer just so I have a better idea of his educational needs. I am certain of one thing that he needs. Because he spends every free moment with his nose in a book, he has an excellent vocabulary on paper, but an inability to correctly pronunciate the words he has read, but not heard. We need to figure out how to work out the kinks in his speech before he starts college. I expect his TCAPs to have mistakes based on time limit anxiety and not ability.

The other TCAP results in our family will be for the youngest girl. She will take her first TCAP this year and I will still make a prediction on her results for next year. Based on her lip quiver and manipulative “Math is haaaard” attempts to get an older sibling to give her the answers to homework, I expect terrible math scores and good language scores. This is not the school’s fault. This is just a red flag that she needs to do more math until she gains the skills to confidently tackle new concepts. Her brain doesn’t have an operating system yet and WE have to help her download one.

Now, I wait. Not in anticipation of a jolt, but for the confirmation of what every parent already knows based on the level of work their child is doing. The work you see at the kitchen table every afternoon. The work you see when they take online quizzes and play with educational software. The work you hear when you read together in the evenings. TCAPs are tools that schools should use to measure the curriculum. They should not be a surprise to parents.

stocking up on pens

// September 13th, 2010 // 3 Comments » // Doug, health, me

Since I don’t know where to go for leeches, I think I’ll try some empty pen medical care. While Doug’s can be stabbed anywhere to relieve his ample blood pressure, mine will be jammed in my sinus windows that are making my face throb. What? You never saw the magical curative powers of writing implements on *Emergency?

*Now we know what John Locke’s father did when he wasn’t being a con man. Come to think of it, maybe stabbing people with pens in every episode should have been our first clue that his career as a paramedic was just a long con.

Beware the Monarch

// September 12th, 2010 // No Comments » // cartoons, life, me

I spend enormous amounts of time sitting in the car, waiting to shuffle children from one activity to another activity. It’s peaceful time that I spend writing, reading, chatting and (occasionally) killing zombies without the distraction of laundry and dishes. Unless the air is so funky that my breathing sounds like Wheezy, I roll down the windows, turn off the engine and settle in with my stack of paperwork and electronics. Since most of the other cars around me keep their windows rolled up to fend off the suffocating heat, the resulting quiet prevents me from constantly shouting, “Squirrel!” Regardless of my productivity level, the time is well spent.

Last week, I sat in the car line at the elementary school and updated meetings and activities in my planner. The stillness was broken by the appearance of the carpool volunteers whose shouts and gestures control the movement of cars and children. The “move forward” signal from the volunteer jarred me into action. My left hand rolled up the car windows while my right hand started the engine. I started to pull the lever from P to D and out of nowhere, a butterfly attacked me. I’m not joking. A large butterfly was determined to land on my nose and no amount of my arms waving it away would deter it from its’ goal. Maybe it wanted to go inside my nose and eat the pollen. I like butterflies as much as the next person, but I don’t want to try driving with a butterfly on my face. Or in my nose. The carpool volunteer motioned again with an additional bit of urgency. I had one hand rolling down windows and one hand shoving at the air to defend myself against the brutal attack by the evil butterfly. As I am not an incarnation of Lakshmi, I had no free hands to actually drive the car.

With the completely frustrated carpool volunteer marching toward me and what I am certain was every driver behind me scratching their heads in confusion, the butterfly danced in the air and flitted out the car window in search of a new nose. I scooted the car forward and apologized profusely. The butterfly incident could have been a random coincidence. The butterfly incident could have been attributed to the rise in the butterfly population to counter the bee population disappearing. Pollination, or umm, life finds a way. I think I’ll consider the butterfly incident a genius marketing plan for tonight’s episode of Venture Brothers. Random failed attacks by butterflies shouldn’t cause nearly the trouble that Mooninites caused Adult Swim. Well . . . unless you try driving a car during the butterfly attack.

Life lessons

// September 10th, 2010 // No Comments » // life, me

Are you a teen or twenty-something who blinks your eyes, sticks out your bottom lip or whatever to get someone else to fix life’s little annoyances for you? Stop it. If you don’t, you will someday be a middle-aged incompetent, whining in the auto parts store aisle because the do-it-yourself wiper blade reference machine is broken. Trust me when I say that it’s not a good feeling to be too old to have someone else offering to help, but lack the skills to fend for yourself.

be more specific

// September 8th, 2010 // 1 Comment » // children, school

Me: “Did you lose your clothespin today?”
Evan: “No. I knew where it was.”

Car keys

// September 6th, 2010 // No Comments » // people

Groom: “I really need to get my keys back from Doug.”
Me: “Umm, yes you do.”
Groom: “We’ve got a bit of a drive ahead of us and we’re anxious to get to our hotel.”
Me: “I’m sure you are.”
Groom: “Soooo, where is Doug?”
Me: “He is still here. Somewhere.”
Groom: “Umm, I think I’ll go look for him.”
Me: “You sure you had enough to eat?”
Groom: “Yeah, I think I need to find Doug.”
Me: “Go sit and relax. I’ll send Doug to you.”
Groom: “Goodnight Cathy.”

As the groom walked away, I could hear him thinking that Cathy is incoherent after a few glasses of wine. I was thinking that Doug had better find the lost car keys soon.