My silence lately points squarely to the usual culprit: extreme busy-ness. The end of the school year is always a giant time suck, as the kids have recitals aplenty, awards nights, group projects, end of season games, graduation ceremonies, field trips, and so on and so forth. I don't want to sound like I don't appreciate all these momentous occasions, but at some point as a parent you start to wonder if we really need so many of them.
Take this weekend. Terzo attends two preschools. One is very laid back and freestyle, where the kids learn quite a bit, but it might not be considered "traditional" learning. Less emphasis on letters and numbers. Lots of time to discuss how plants grow and roll down the Big Hill and make your dinosaur look any way you want and play pretend and just be a kid.
The other is a little more regimented. Multiple worksheets, every day. Lots and lots of letters and numbers. Very little of the kid's own creativity and many cookie cutter projects instead. Just a few minutes outside. In other words, more of what he can expect in kindergarten; I thought he needed just a little taste of it before he's thrown into the deep end next year.
Guess which one Terzo loves and eagerly anticipates.
Guess which one he cries about attending every stinking morning he has it.
Guess which one ended this past weekend, unfortunately.
But it was a lovely ceremony, even if we did have to make a life size poster of him the night before graduation... The preschooler has just as many projects as the older ones.
Can you tell he did the project all by himself, with little parental involvement past cutting out the figure? I know he would not be judged for that at this school. In fact, it is actually considered a positive thing. For those of you who may be wondering, that is not a third eye but a medal (he calls it a "reward", and gets quite upset when I correct him) hanging from his hat.
The ceremony had a picnic theme. They wore hats decorated like ants, and generally carried on and had a good time. They especially liked the part where they threw marshmallows at the parents. (I told you it was a more easy-going, fun-loving situation!)
We noticed that the kids were seated alphabetically, except for our child. The alphabet would have placed him right in the middle of his two best buddies. He was relocated to a more benign location.
We also moved his brothers, who were less than gracious about attending the ceremony, to a more benign location, and gave them some high tech equipment to amuse themselves and a task to keep them occupied.
It seemed to work. At least it kept them out of my general vicinity while they were being ratty, and that's always a plus.