Random Acts of Confusion
Act One: I took Jake to see Ponyo last night. I had read good reviews and am almost always willing to see a kids' movie that doesn't involve talking guinea pigs, fighting and fart jokes. Plus, Sam was spending the night with a friend and I thought a movie would distract Jake.
At the start of the movie I remember thinking, this could be wonderful. But I watched the rest of the movie with the same face I have when I try to do the New York Times crossword puzzle. Let's just say if I am ever a method actor and a scene requires confusion and ambivalence, I will simply think "Ponyo." But Jake liked it. I suppose that's all the matters. "It didn't have a bad guy or a monster!" was his review.
Act Two: We found out today that Jake got into the preschool program at Sam's school. Let me backtrack and say this is no high-brow private school. Sam goes to school at a relatively low-income school with a lot of minorities. Many of the spots in the preschool program are reserved for kids whose parents don't speak English. After those spots are filled, they turn to the wait list (us) to fill the rest of the spots. All that to say, Jake got a spot. That means that next Monday he and Sam will be going to the same school. And it makes me sad. I love his day care, although I do think a move will be good for him. The 7:40 morning bell is a little daunting.
Act Three: I signed the boys up for Fall soccer at the Y across town. Several of Jake's classmates formed a team so we signed him up to play with his buddies. And to keep things easier, we signed Sam up at the same Y, even though he doesn't know his teammates. In fact, I noticed on the roster that 7 of the 8 players go to the same school. That leaves Sam. After I paid the fee, got the game and practice schedule, I started crying, right there at the Y. I'm sure the teenage employee was a little shocked. I tried to explain that I was having reservations about putting him on a team where everyone knew each other and he was the "outsider." An older, female employee stepped over and said, "I understand. I'd like to stand here and say it won't matter, but I see your point." She let me look over the other, closed rosters to see if there was a better option. There wasn't.
I guess I'm a little vulnerable right now. The start of school is a yearly reminder that the kids are getting older, that I'm getting older. And occasionally like today I am overwhelmed by the desire (and sometimes failure) to do and get the absolute best for my kids. To know all about them, love every minute with them, protect them from anything and everything. Add this to a summer that I think was mostly squandered, that I wish would've been spent outside, at the pool, eating ice cream and watermelon.
Oh well. Next summer we'll be here before you know it.
At the start of the movie I remember thinking, this could be wonderful. But I watched the rest of the movie with the same face I have when I try to do the New York Times crossword puzzle. Let's just say if I am ever a method actor and a scene requires confusion and ambivalence, I will simply think "Ponyo." But Jake liked it. I suppose that's all the matters. "It didn't have a bad guy or a monster!" was his review.
Act Two: We found out today that Jake got into the preschool program at Sam's school. Let me backtrack and say this is no high-brow private school. Sam goes to school at a relatively low-income school with a lot of minorities. Many of the spots in the preschool program are reserved for kids whose parents don't speak English. After those spots are filled, they turn to the wait list (us) to fill the rest of the spots. All that to say, Jake got a spot. That means that next Monday he and Sam will be going to the same school. And it makes me sad. I love his day care, although I do think a move will be good for him. The 7:40 morning bell is a little daunting.
Act Three: I signed the boys up for Fall soccer at the Y across town. Several of Jake's classmates formed a team so we signed him up to play with his buddies. And to keep things easier, we signed Sam up at the same Y, even though he doesn't know his teammates. In fact, I noticed on the roster that 7 of the 8 players go to the same school. That leaves Sam. After I paid the fee, got the game and practice schedule, I started crying, right there at the Y. I'm sure the teenage employee was a little shocked. I tried to explain that I was having reservations about putting him on a team where everyone knew each other and he was the "outsider." An older, female employee stepped over and said, "I understand. I'd like to stand here and say it won't matter, but I see your point." She let me look over the other, closed rosters to see if there was a better option. There wasn't.
I guess I'm a little vulnerable right now. The start of school is a yearly reminder that the kids are getting older, that I'm getting older. And occasionally like today I am overwhelmed by the desire (and sometimes failure) to do and get the absolute best for my kids. To know all about them, love every minute with them, protect them from anything and everything. Add this to a summer that I think was mostly squandered, that I wish would've been spent outside, at the pool, eating ice cream and watermelon.
Oh well. Next summer we'll be here before you know it.
posted by Romine Family at 6:34 PM
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