I am going senile. Not only did I use “Meanwhile, back at the ranch” as a post title once before, I used it only about a month ago. I never would’ve even realized this, except that I happened to notice that the permalink for yesterday’s post had a “2” at the end, and being the bright human that I am, I went, “Huh. I wonder why that is?”
Now I’m afraid to title anything, for fear that I’ve just plain run out of titles. Please look for my next book, coming soon (and by “soon” I mean “never”) to a bookstore near you. It will be called “Insert title here.” It’s riveting stuff, I tell you.
Anyway, despite my best efforts to forge a believable story arc out of three cups of coffee and some string, today is just going to be a One Of Those Days. I can tell. Nevertheless, I shall soldier on, making with the words and then maybe some more words, because I’m a giver. I care. Oh, wait. Maybe that’s I’m a talker and I talk. I always get those confused.
Proving once again that the squeaky wheel gets the grease after a month of testing, both kids have finally been officially placed in our county’s gifted program. Huzzah! This is good news, because if I had to listen to one more day of “Mom, this is SO BORING, I think I learned that in KINDERGARTEN,” from the two of them, I was going to hurt someone. (Please note: This does not mean my kids are geniuses. This means only that the curriculum here is different than the curriculum at their old school, and also that they have mastered the fine art of hyperbole.) They got off the bus yesterday with thick envelopes addressed “TO THE PARENT OF” and I was tempted to tell them that they hadn’t gotten in, but that seemed mean. Instead, I told them that they’d gotten in and I was very proud of both of them, but that I would not be showing them their test scores.
That drove them absolutely insane. Especially Chickadee. How in the world are they supposed to COMPETE UNNECESSARILY with each other if I won’t even tell them how they did??
(Actually, their scores were identical—which I find very… um… interesting—on all major indices. The one area in which their scores are vastly different was not a surprise to me but probably would be to them. And as the point was merely to get into the program, I stand by my decision to withhold their scores. They have enough ammunition to use against each other already.)
I had to sign and return a form which gave me the option to either check “Yes, please, for the love of God, put my kid into the program” or “No, I refuse to let my child learn up to his/her potential,” which I found interesting. I mean, I don’t know why ANYONE would NOT want their kid in an accelerated program if that was the school’s recommendation, anyway, but I already had to sign a permission form for them to be tested. Who grants permission for testing and then decides not to do it? Perplexing.
Of course, I may change my mind about all of this once we see the new workload. Just from going to the new math class (which Chickadee has been attending for a couple of weeks, now), Chickadee’s got about twice as much homework as she used to have. It’s homework she LIKES, at least. Plus she gets a problem every week that parents are allowed to help with, so we get to do things like sit at the kitchen table and talk about algebra, which I am surprised to learn I really enjoy.
(Right up until calculus, I liked and was good at math. Calculus broke me. By the time I limped into grad school statistics, I was a mess. Remembering that once upon a time math was fun appeals to my geeky side.)
Anyway, I also find it very charming that on the same day when my kids come home with pieces of paper that basically say “Hi, your kid is smart!” they commence going about their after-school routine in their new fashion, which is to interact via LOLspeak.
“Hi, Mom!” Chickadee began. “I can has envelope for you! I be having some snacks now, okay thanks bye!” She tossed her envelope in my general direction and headed to the kitchen.
“Hi Mama!” followed Monkey, while flinging himself into my lap for a hug. “I can has envelope TOO! And you can has snuggles. And I can has Cheez-Its? Hungry Monkey is hungry. Okay, bye!” Off to the kitchen he went.
Chickadee tried to hand Monkey a box of cereal instead of the Cheez-Its. I know this because he screeched “DO NOT WANT!”
Yes. I can haz smart chilldrin.