|
|
|
The views expressed on this page are soley
those of the author and do not
necessarily represent the views of County
News Online
|
 |
Broke Wife, Big City
Too school for cool
By Aprill Brandon
I don’t have much proof. I’ll admit that right off the bat. But just
hear me out. I’m starting to suspect that my son is not my child.
I mean, sure, he looks just like my husband and acts just like me (WHO
ARE YOU CALLING DRAMATIC!?). But he was born via C-section. I couldn’t
see anything past that weird blue screen they put up, not even them
pulling a human body out of my human body. Who knows what happened down
there? And, yeah, ok, my husband claims to have witnessed it but he
could be part of this whole conspiracy. So, really, who’s the crazy one
here?
See, my son (“allegedly”), he starts kindergarten in a week. And he is
not excited. At all. According to him, after one year of preschool,
he’s all set education-wise.
“But Momma! I went to school last year, remember? I learned everything already.”
And I know. I know what you’re thinking. Maybe he’s just scared. But
that doesn’t seem to be the case either. Yesterday I sat him down and
started going off on this whole heartfelt spiel about how I was
terrified on my first day of kindergarten and, funny story, was
actually sent to the corner on my first day of school (I was framed
basically and that’s all I’ll say about it and she knows what she did).
But he stopped me, while I was mid-monologue and teary-eyed, with a
wave of his hand.
“I’m not scared. I’d just rather stay home.”
The boy isn’t even excited about getting new school supplies. SCHOOL SUPPLIES, guys.
“Do you want to get a new backpack for this year?” I nonchalantly asked him last week.
“Nah. I’ll just use my old Paw Patrol one.”
“Well, we can buy you other things.”
“Nah.”
“But have you ever smelled a fresh notebook? Or lovingly held a new box
of crayons? All sharp and unused and full of potential? Want me to buy
you a Trapper Keeper?”
“What’s that?”
“The single coolest invention of all time.”
“Nah.”
WHO IS THIS CHILD? I’m not going to lie. A good 30 percent of the
reason I had kids was so I’d have a legitimate reason to wander up and
down the school supply aisles, creepily smelling notebook paper. But
now the girl who was once too school for cool has a son who is too cool
for school. It’s like a super messed up Dr. Seuss story.
I loved school. I was that kid raising their hand going “ohohoh, pick
me!” I was that kid who joined everything. T-ball, volleyball,
basketball, track, one ill-advised year as a cheerleader, school plays,
band, Spanish club, yearbook staff. And yes, I was probably that kid
you hated.
Not that school was always great. It had the typical amount of suck.
There was some hardcore psychological warfare going on in third grade
among my clique of friends. And then again in fifth grade. And half of
sixth. I spent grades four through nine in one long awkward phase.
(Tenth grade I was also pretty awkward but had at least learned how to
pluck my eyebrows so there were officially two). Once a boy asked me
out as a joke. Twice I tripped in the cafeteria, spilling my food and
dignity everywhere. And I can’t count the number of times I got busted
for falling asleep in class (one, because I was asleep and two, because
it was almost always in math class).
Yet the good still outweighed the bad. And I earned a life-long love of
learning. Which is what I was hoping for my own children. They don’t
need to get straight A’s. Or get involved in sports. Or fake their way
through Spanish well enough to become vice president of Spanish club
(el gato esta en la microonda!). But I do want them to use this time to
try it all, experience it all, learn it all. To discover who they are
and what they can do.
Alas, my son is not me. Nor is his younger sister. Which is something
I’m trying to keep in mind as we step blindly into this new phase of
their lives. I can’t make them love school. I can’t make them see with
20 years of hindsight what lies before them.
What I can do, though, is be their cheerleader (albeit an admittedly
bad and inflexible one, just like when I was in school). And I can be
there for them when things get hard, and then they get easier, and then
everything changes and it all gets hard again. And I can listen to them
when they have a bad day, a bad teacher, a big bully.
And most importantly, I can impart my hard-won wisdom onto them that
these years are only a small window of time where you can carry around
a Trapper Keeper without looking like a crazy person.
Can’t get enough of Aprill? Can’t wait until next week?
Check out her website at http://aprillbrandon.com/
|
|
|
|
