I attended the meeting tonight regarding the school reorganization plan.  For people reading this from out of town, a major reorganization of our school district has been proposed and we’re in the middle of the “public comment” period.

I don’t feel that I can openly vent on the Facebook page, but I can be a little more candid here.  As I sat at the meeting tonight I felt like nobody had really listened to anything the superintendent said.  People kept wanting answers to their questions, and details like which kid would be going to which school, how much money would be spent/saved, etc.  Personally, if the reorganization team had presented a detailed plan with the lines already drawn, I would assume that it was a done deal and that it was too late for feedback.  This week is the period where we get to COMMENT, and then the reorg team makes any necessary changes and issues a final proposal to be voted on by the school committee.  Seems simple enough.

The reorganization team is made up of a group of educators in our school system, many of whom are parents of kids in our schools.  They know about education and they care about kids.  I know most of them, either personally or by reputation.  I trust them.  What do I know?  I sell locks.

Parents keep talking about how the changes will negatively affect their kids.  I strongly believe that if we are positive about it, the kids will be too.  Aliya and Adlani aren’t at all concerned.  To be fair, the kids who are being relocated to their neighborhood school will have a tougher adjustment than our school which will be moving as a complete unit, but I still think kids adapt to change much easier than we do, and factor our response into theirs.  If we’re fine, they’ll be fine too.

There are obvious advantages to the proposal, if people would put their emotions and fear of change aside and listen.  The principal of Dunning and the high school principal both gave great insight into why the proposal of K-2/3-5 pairings will benefit education.  But people seemed hung up on “I don’t want to leave my school,” or “I don’t want my kid to go to a school with low MCAS scores.”  That argument doesn’t really make sense to me.  If the MCAS scores are low at a particular school (let’s put aside the reasons why for now), but every school is being changed and the kids are being shuffled around, how do last year’s MCAS scores matter?  If the scores are low because the teachers are bad, that’s one thing, but that’s not the reason.

At least 6 people said they didn’t want their kids to go to Woodrow Wilson because it’s in a “bad part of town,” and some even suggested sending the Two-Way program there.  (I couldn’t help feeling like they were suggesting it as some sort of punishment.  Someone said on the Facebook page that the program was “elitist” because you have to enter in kindergarten.  Duh…you can’t enter at a higher grade because you’d have to be fluent in Spanish.  If you are and there’s space available, you’re welcome!)  One woman said she would move out of the ‘Ham if her kid got assigned to Woodrow.  True, it’s not in a good part of town.  But I kept wondering if anyone was going to defend the school because I know how I’d feel if people were saying that they didn’t want their kids to go to our school.  The last comment of the night was my favorite Zumba instructor Ali (her son went to our preschool last year).  As soon as I saw her standing there I knew she was going to be the one to defend Woodrow Wilson because I remember when her son was assigned there for kindergarten.

Ali was extremely emotional, so of course I immediately started crying.  (Ted didn’t help when he told me to pull it together.)  She was very hurt that everyone was slamming the school her son attends, and she wanted to share the story of his success there.  Like all of the schools in the ‘Ham, Woodrow has amazing teachers, and because of them, her son is thriving.  I was so proud of Ali for standing up and speaking out, even though I’m sure she knew she would have a hard time.  I don’t think I would have been able to do the same.  She was very brave.

There’s one more meeting for public comment on Thursday night, and no doubt some of the same people will show up with the same gripes.  Personally, I’m a big fan of working together toward a positive outcome rather than fighting against each other but we’ll have to wait and see how it goes.  There may be some nice real estate opening up on the south side of route 9.   
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I really need your help with some research I’m conducting.  I’m compiling some data about what the general public knows about fire doors that I can use in an educational program for code officials.  I need to get responses from as many people as possible, so I’m hoping that you’ll not only click on the link below to take the survey, but that you will also copy the link into an email and ask your friends and family to take it too.  It only takes about 5 minutes and it would really help me out.

Thanks!

http://surveys.polldaddy.com/s/4F92BDFA58D15D34/
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The best part is at the end.  I’m afraid of Bloody Mary and Bigfoot too.  And turkeys.

The decade according to 9-year-olds from allison louie-garcia on Vimeo.

I’m positive that Resolution #2 would help me with Resolution #1, but it’s not as easy as just going to bed.

a) When I put the kids to bed I often fall asleep with one of them for a half hour or so, and then I am wide awake until 2 a.m.  Even if I don’t get this little catnap I’m still wide awake until 2 a.m.  I have some residual childhood night-time issues that could be contributing.  Solution – Therapy and a new bedtime routine?
 
b) The lure of getting something done beats the lure of my pillow.  If I try to go to bed early I just lay there thinking about everything I didn’t do today.  The end of the list just keeps getting further away so I’m not sure what to do about it.  Solution – An assistant and a double-dose of Tylenol PM?
 
c) When I do finally hit the sheets I don’t get good sleep.  Kids crawl in with me at all hours and once they’re there they are constantly kicking me or waking me with their Spanish sleep-talking.  You would think I could just send them back to their bed but I rarely wake up enough to make a conscious decision.  Even though my sleep is interrupted, I don’t wake up enough to fix the problem.  Solution – A lock and earplugs?

By the way, I did NOT yell this morning.  The getting up early wasn’t as successful as I’d hoped because the staying up late made the getting up early almost impossible, but I decided to try to “manage my expectations.”  My boss, and my previous bosses (my boss’ brother and father) have been telling me for 15 years to manage my expectations when I get upset about an employee who isn’t doing what I think he or she should be doing.  Honestly, it has been really annoying to hear that over and over, but I’ve had enough Kool-Aid at this point so that’s part of my survival plan.  If I don’t expect much, I’m not disappointed.  Very sad, in my opinion, but realistic.

So this morning I didn’t expect the kids to know that teeth are brushed with toothpaste, that socks go on feet before shoes, or that breakfast comes before playing with kittens.  I prodded them as needed to keep them moving forward, but I didn’t necessarily expect them to move forward so I didn’t get mad when they didn’t.  When they gave me trouble, I walked away.  When Norah threw a fit while I brushed her hair, she went to school with beginner-dreadlocks.  When Adlani still couldn’t find his boot, he had to wear Aliya’s back-up pair again.  Too girlie for ya?  Oh well, manage your expectations.  I set the timer and gave them their instructions, and when it started beeping I walked out with my keys, then honked the horn in the driveway.

I nagged, honked, and sent my kids to school with opposite-gender footwear and dreads.  But I didn’t yell.

This is my anthem:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_K-5P_zFM8k&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0]

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Stop Yelling

When I was a kid, I always vowed that I would never yell like my mother did.  My mother could yell.  And she would sometimes lose it completely and say the things that many of us have thought at some point in the heat of the moment, like, “I only had kids so they could do the housework!”  I did learn one thing from Mom’s yelling, which is never to say those things out loud because your kids will remember them forever.

So I have no idea how I got from a vow of always speaking in calm and encouraging tones, to an exact clone of my mother, yelling in the driveway at 8 a.m., and considering pulling out a clump of my own hair to strangle someone with.  This morning was a perfect example…first day back after Christmas vacation, a new year, a new beginning, Yeah, right.

~ Alarm rings, kids whine, I pry them out of bed and send them toward their clothes.  Level 0 on the Anger-Meter.  Not bad!
~ Tell each kid 52 times to put on a particular article of clothing.  Level 1.
~ Adlani throws a fit because he doesn’t want to wear the sweater that he is already wearing.  Smacks towel rack in bathroom, which makes a very satisfying bang (I’ll have to remember that for my next outburst).  Level 2.
~ Finally make it downstairs for breakfast and Aliya is laying in front of the fireplace with the dog instead of fixing her snack or eating breakfast.  Level 3.
~ Breakfast and all that it entails.  Level 4.
~ Playing with kittens instead of eating.  Level 5.
~ Playing with kittens instead of putting on coats.  Level 6.
~ Adlani missing one (brand new) boot, AND insists on sitting right in the only path from kitchen to front door.  Level 7.
~ Brush Norah’s hair after no conditioner was used by last night’s bath overseer.  Level 8.
~ Still no coats.  Already 5 minutes late.  I have a chiropractor appointment at 9:30 and a meeting at 10.  Missing the bus is not an option.  Level 9.
~ Herd everyone to the driveway with backpacks, freshly-washed nap blankets, complete cold-weather gear (each piece labeled), snacks, assorted forms…open car door…one booster seat is missing.

To make matters worse, some of my tactics are no longer working.  Before vacation I had a similar morning situation and when we were finally on our way I started in on the uber-emotional “WHY CAN’T YOU GUYS JUST DO ONE LITTLE THING I ASK YOU TO DO?!?!” complete with faux sniffling (call me a faker but I have to get my point across somehow), and Norah piped up from the back seat, “Sometimes Daddy calls you a crybaby.”  Nice.

Just a day or two later I used the Deep Breath & 10-Count technique during breakfast (in hopes that they would think, “We’d better stop or she’s going to lose it.”) and Norah innocently asked, “What?  Your breath smells really really bad?”

In 2010, I’m all about making necessary changes, and our morning routine is in obvious need of an overhaul.  Tomorrow morning we will be trying Change #1 – get up 1/2 hour earlier, along with Lana’s suggestion of setting the timer to indicate when to put on coats, rather than saying it 142 times.  If that doesn’t work I’m asking my doctor for meds.
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