First day of school

We survived the first day of school.  But I am having a difficult time writing about it. 

Because it was hard. 

For me.

For WJ the day started with bit of struggle.  He was clingy in the morning and when I gave in to a few minutes of cuddling, he declared that he was not going to preschool again.  “If you take me into preschool this morning,” he pouted, “I will run all the way to kindergarten!”  But all of this came out with no real fight behind it.  It was an obvious bluff.

I pulled a halfhearted trick out of my hat, “But I will need someone to carry these important forms to the teacher!  If you are not going to preschool, who will carry these forms?”  We both knew it was lame but we also both knew his threat was empty.  He played the game, took the bait, carried the forms, and off to school we went.

It was me, the grown-up one, who was feeling truly rocky. 

I am a little embarrassed by this.

When Dave and I were debating the options for this school year, I searched high and low for anything to read about parents deciding to keep a child back. I found very little.  I talked to about a gazillion parents who all said, “We did that with our child in preschool/kindergarten/first grade and it was the best decision we ever made.”  But I found very little unbiased evaluation of the options and even less about what it would actually be like to make this decision and live with it.  That is really the impetus for my writing here.  Because of this, I feel obligated to take you along with our family in as much honesty as I can manage.

What is, therefore, the first day of school like for a parent whose child is not moving on to the next grade? It might stink.

I was, of course, filled with the protection instinct.  My mind raced with all of the things that could be hard for WJ on this day.  And beyond.  I was imagining every time he will ever have to explain why his age and his grade level don’t match up.   A growl welled up inside of me.  I imagined superpowers. 

And when I saw how WJ towered over the tiny four year-olds in the room, I considered home schooling.

Meanwhile the darkest, most ugly part of my thinking settled here: I felt a little like I was being left back myself; I felt something that hinted at shame.  As we walked through the streets, I was praying that no one would ask me about our decision again.  As we entered the school building, I was praying even harder that no one would make that terrible mistake and ask WJ (or me) how kindergarten was going.  I wanted to be invisible.  My smile felt plastic.  I felt silly among the parents of the younger children.  The minutes dragged on.  The greetings of friends felt slathered in pity. 

Now, I know with my mind that this was all completely ridiculous.  But I also know that you often have very little control over how you feel.  Emotions and reason do not always match up.    The challenge is choosing which of the voices to turn toward.

As I confess to you this embarrassing emotion and ridiculous thinking, I confess to you also how short-lived it was.  Reason won out soon enough.  We, me included, have survived the first and the second days of school.  We are looking forward to the third. 

When I asked WJ what he liked about school today, he said, “Everything.”  I think he means it and I am resting assured.

Homemade flavored iced tea

One of my personal definitions of slowing down and being intentional this year is going to be an attempt at eliminating as much “instant” as possible from our kitchen and diet.  Two hopes are imbedded in this effort: health and frugality.

This week I am taking on What We Drink.  I won’t go into all of the dirty, guilty details of what I am working to replace here.  Suffice it to say that BPA is a concern on one hand and on the other is the recycling bin overflowing with silver cans, featuring a sporty red swish.

Today if you stopped by for a visit, I would be able to offer you a tall glass of iced tea, BPA-and-sporty-red-swish-free.  And you would have a number of delightful and naturally flavored options to boot.

I spent Saturday evening working on three batches of tea.  The process is incredibly simple: simmer a few cups of water and a few tea bags until the brew is dark and strong.  Pour into a quart glass jar, cool, and store in the fridge.  When you want a cup of tea, add a small amount of the concentrate to a glass of ice and then fill with water to dilute.

No magic formula. Just experiment until you find what you like.  I have found that four to six tea bags makes the intensity that we enjoy and that the tea needs to simmer for at least 30 minutes, more if I am infusing it with flavor. Here are our two current favorites: 

Vanilla Cinnamon Decaf Black Tea  When adding the tea bags to the simmering water for this one, I throw in a cinnamon stick.  When the tea is dark and I can smell the cinnamon from a fair distance, I strain out the tea bags and cinnamon and stir in about a fourth to a half of a teaspoon of vanilla extract and about two teaspoons to a tablespoon of agave nectar for sweetness without the blood sugar spike.  The sweetness will be a faint suggestion, just taking away the bitter edge of the vanilla extract.  Each batch gets diluted into numerous servings, keeping this a low-cal beverage option.

 Peach Ginger Green Tea  For this tea, I simmer the water and tea bags and a chopped peach in one pot.  Then I simmer about two inches of ginger root in another pot of water. No need to peel the ginger. Just wash the root and chop it into about half inch chunks.  When both solutions are dark and strong, strain both and mix them together.  Sometimes the peach adds enough sweetness and sometimes I add a small amount of agave. 

 

I have found that I need to simmer the peach tea until the peach really has begun to fall apart in the mixture in order to get a peachy flavor in the tea.

I am open to any new ideas or challenges.  What is your favorite tea?

Mushy bananas

The brown bananas on the kitchen counter were looking like they were on the verge of oozing, which of course means it is time to whip up a batch of my favorite banana bread recipe.  I came across this recipe on Pinch My Salt at least two years ago after googling for a whole wheat version.  The recipe is from a King Arthur’s Flour cookbook but I follow Nicole’s suggestion to add 1/4 cup of applesauce and 1/4 cup of wheat germ. 

I had already creamed the butter and sugar tonight when I opened the fridge and found only one egg.  This made for a prime opportunity for a second experiment with substituting with flaxseed.  My first experiment would have passed for Passover matzah.  On the side of the ground flaxseed box there is a section outlining its use as a substitute for eggs and oil.  I love that it ends with this admonition: Don’t give up if your results aren’t perfect the first time! Translation: We’re settin’ you up for failure! Cheerio!

If you want to substitute flaxseed for eggs, use one tablespoon of ground flaxseed mixed with three tablespoons of water for each egg.  Tonight I mixed the flaxseed and water together before adding them.  It made a gooey mixture.  During my first attempt, I just added both the water and the flaxseed separately, directly into the batter.  Maybe someone out there well versed in the care and feeding of flaxseed could chime in if combining these ahead of time really is the key. 

Tonight it seemed to make a difference.  The batter looked perfect and it is baking in the oven as I type.  Smells good.

Chocolate milk will help

WJ and I were together at school today.  Our school year starts very late and we were there for teacher planning meetings.  I teach in the preschool he attends.

WJ had a lovely reunion with his teachers this morning and stopped for a long conversation with one of them.  As they talked, one of WJ’s Two Best Friends passed by.  She and her family were headed down the hall for their before-the-start-of-school peek at the kindergarten classroom and her first opportunity to meet the kindergarten teacher.

WJ spends about seventy percent of the time attached to reality.  The other thirty percent are moments when his diesel-fueled preschool imagination takes over and he slips away into a life-size, real-time daydream.  Sometimes I think of these imaginary moments as Doggie World, as his stuffed pal Doggie figures prominently in these dreams.

After realizing he was not invited to join his Best Friend down the hall, WJ slid into Doggie World and told his teacher, “I am teaching a new class this year.”

“You are teaching a new class?” she inquired.

“Yes,” he said with authority, “I am the teacher.  Doggie is in my class.”

“I see.”  Doggie World School featuring WJ as the teacher is a place about which this teacher has heard before.

“There are some students in my new class who are a little sad.  Their friends are going to a new school.  They are not going to be in the class this year.”

WJ’s teacher responded with grace and wisdom.  “You are a very good teacher.  You must know how to help these children who are sad.  What will help them feel better about going to school without their friends?”

WJ replied, “Well, I know you probably can’t do this in your classroom but in my classroom, I just give them chocolate milk.”

The processing of this decision to keep WJ in preschool another year, despite his chronological age, continues.  Kindergarten starts tomorrow without him.  Moments of sadness persist.  But the big picture of a child ready for school, feeling confident, operating out of a place of strength is the shelter under which we stand, knowing our decision is the right one for this imaginative child.

Early to rise

Tonight I’d like to introduce you to my newest favorite Target purchase: the retro alarm clock.  I bought this clock to replace a perfectly good clock radio for one reason alone—its lack of a snooze button.  When it goes off, I am getting up. No loitering in bed, waiting for the pitter-patter of little feet, pressing the snooze and promising to get up next time.

This may seem counterintuitive to my theme of slowing down.  I have come to the realization, however, that one major component to a well-paced, peaceful day is having a smooth start.  Another is providing yourself time to do the things you need and want to do. 

For many of us, the early hours can be the best time to find this time.  I am not a natural early-riser, but my day goes significantly better if I have a few minutes of quiet before beginning the work of getting ready to walk out of the door.  It might be a few minutes of reading or journaling or prayer.  It might be sitting still with a cup of something hot.  It might be a shower alone, with no preschooler poking his head through the curtain. 

I am rising tomorrow before my child.  I plan to savor both the quiet time alone and also the repose of giving myself enough time to get ready.  This time has always been there; I am just planning to use it better.

Where are the places where you find hidden time?