Give me your milk money or give me death!

Next week, both my kids will be in school.  It's a scary thought.  Granted, the Saved By The Bell-type drama is still years away, but it's a lot closer than it was five short years ago.  My little babies...all growed up and saving China.

Or at least blaming each other for that hole in the wall

For the first time since I lived at home with my parents (shut up), I am going to have honest-to-God free time during my day. No school books to read.  No diapers to change.  No annoying phone calls at 6 in the morning asking if I can come work at 7 because someone didn't show up.  It's just me and...me. 

In the past I would have celebrated my newfound moments of freedom by firing up a new season of Greys Anatomy, starting a multi-team dynasty on NCAA Football, or just taking a nice short nap.  Well...not the Greys Anatomy thing....because I'm already on that!  Season 7 is SOOOO good!

However, this time around something (or some things) are different.  My priorities are different.  I'm different.  And so my plan is....different (you guys keeping up?).  And that plan involves volunteering.  At local schools.  The local schools my kids are attending (still not convinced you guys are keeping up- I think I lost most of you at 'Saved By The Bell')

Yes, yes, I know that there are some who think I'm just the hovering control-freak dad who can't stand to let go of his little babies, and so he dresses up like a pretty girl who was a nerd in high school but is actually smoking hot, but still can't get in the popular crowd (especially since a mishap with a nightclub stamp led to the word 'LOSER' being imprinted on her forehead) to buy in until her brother David Arquette also goes back to school and tells everyone she used to date him (which is not that big of a stretch.  This is David Arquette we're talking about) and then she becomes popular but ends up with a creepy teacher in the end. 

But I'm not that guy- because that guy is actually a girl, and that girl is actually Drew Barrymore.  That's so flattering though!

No, this is a much deeper desire birthed out of a few different life events.  Yes, the fact that my kids are in school is an incentive to be involved, to make sure that the educational system is functioning the way I think it should (and if I get to play 'Big Brother', even better). 

However, I've also thought about volunteering for awhile.  Which probably makes me like a majority of Americans.  We watch the infomercials about starving children in Africa, and we think 'oh man, that's too bad'.  We feel guilty for a bit and then we go back to watching Jerry Springer.  Not everyone is like this though.  Lots of my social work cohort volunteered, for example.  I always felt like I should be volunteering too, but I can't say that at the time I was ready.  Having two kids in diapers I never really had the chance to find out.  Now I do- and I am.

Of course, I'm probably being too hard on myself.  Raising children, in the early years, is like sprinting a marathon.  You have to be able to react to things at a moments notice, while simultaneously being able to pace yourself for long stretches.  We could have done day care, but there technically was no real need. Besides, we had made a conscious decision, back when we first had Delaney in the group home, that we were going to be the ones to raise our children.

Five years later, and we've crossed that bridge (not completely with Shane- but we're almost there).  It's taken sacrifice, grace, federal assistance, and family (lots of family)- but we've made it.  I feel like volunteering in the schools is a thing I can do to give back to others- pay it forward, so to speak.  So many people poured into our lives to make it possible for us to love our children, and now I want to pour into the lives of other people's children- or at least do things that free up time for other people to create their own precious moments.

Also, there are things of career to consider.  Sara and I have sort of tag-teamed the last few years, alternating between being students and being stay-at-home-fill-in-the-blanks.  But now we are entering into a season of life that will (hopefully) be much more stable- and thus, a season to think about the future. 

Because of shifting employment and the ever-fluctuating schedule of a collegiate student (espeically music majors), we haven't had much stability, and with the kids entering into school, that is not only more of a possibility- but also a desire.  I would love to have a nice steady 9-5 Monday through Friday type-job.  And I feel like volunteering at school is going to help me to get there.  Not only will it be good volunteer experience (which always looks good on the resumes), but it will expose me to different facets of the educational experience (which is possibly an area I'd like to work in) and different types of people as well.

I believe in our education system.  No really, I do.  Seriously- I know I have a tendency to joke around, and use sarcasm and slight-of-hand-type humor, but this time I'm really being on the up-and-up.  Geez, you guys are making me feel like Padme' telling Obi-Wan that there's still good in Anakin.

'I'm not dead'
'Not de...what?  I cut you in half!'
'No you didn't'
'....for the love...Obi-Wan, I severed your lower torso from your upper.  Your legs are over there!'
'Nope.  That's just a flesh wound'
'.........'

 Of course it has flaws.  But I know good can come from it.  And how do I know good can come from it?

Because I plan to be involved in it.  I'm no longer content to sit around and kvetch about the problem.  The turkey-stuffed classroom sizes.  Lack of funding.  Insufficient learning.  Standardized testing.  If the Marquette educational system is going to fall apart, it damn sure isn't going to fall apart because I was too busy leading the Central Michigan Chippewas to the promised land.

After the first day of kindergarten, each kid had a letter come home detailing areas that needed some volunteer help.  The seed was planted.  As I went through the list, it was simultaneously watered, weeded, fertalized, harvested, and taken to the market.  Library?  Sure, love to help.  Lunchroom?  Check.  Count box tops and soup labels?  Well, I can count, so you can count- on me.  Edit the school yearbook?  Just call me Jim Bellows.  

Sandy Knoll School Association meetings (which I assume are their version of the PTA)- planning on 'em.  And it's not just with Delaney's school.  Shane's Headstart program places a premium on helping out- whether it be at fundraisers or in the classroom, parent participation is promoted passionately.  Indeed, I have already volunteered to be the classroom's Parent Policy Council representative.  You might not have heard of it....it's kind of a big deal. 

Please know I'm not telling you all this to toot my own horn (although, given my tendency to toot my own horn, I see where you could get confused).  I want to spell all this out, in part, to soothe the worriers that I have much bigger ambitions than holding on to a few more invaluable seconds of face time.  Mostly, I'm just very excited about entering into this chapter of my life, and I hope that some of my excitement will rub off on you, the reader, and inspire you to set aside your own selfish ambitions for the sake of pursuing some noble cause that is in service to mankind.  And then I want you to thank me for it in dramatic speech form.  Not like, an Oscars speech-I'm talking like a William Wallace kind of speech.  Or like Aragorn at the Black Gates.

"I really thought I checked the 'Count Campbell Soup labels' box, not the 'Lead a Suicide Mission to Mordor' box.  If I make it out of this alive, I'm going straight to the office and double check that"

A final thought- a couple months ago I wrote about a guy who was involved at Bullock Creek named Mr. Ostyn. Mr. Ostyn didn't have a fancy title- or even a well-defined role, as far as I could tell.  But he made a difference in kids lives.  It should be noted that Mr. Ostyn was slapping high fives in the hallowed halls of the Creek years after his own children had graduated and moved on.  That's the type of man I want to be.

That's what volunteering means to me.  This is a chance to make a difference.  This is about creating a legacy.  Not a legacy so that I can look back and hear people sing songs about me.  It's about being a Mr. Ostyn in the life of a child, who shows that child that they have value not because of what they do or who they hang out with- but because they are.

Picture: Lego- http://ih2.redbubble.net/work.3564356.2.flat,550x550,075,f.if-you-strike-me-down.jpg
Aragorn- http://images2.fanpop.com/images/polls/252000/252478_1244993835479_full.jpg
Mulan- http://0.tqn.com/d/create/1/0/b/t/2/-/mushu.jpg

Summer's out for school

Yesterday we had an open house for Delaney at her new school, Sandy Knoll. Today, I am going to tell you about it.

There are few events in life that are more important and more likely to be forgotten than your first school open house (Hyperbole alert!). I mean, to the infant elementary schooler (not that our daughter is an infant who is starting school- although, with our genes, it wouldn't have surprised me), it is the day when your last summer of true freedom ends and the rest of your indentured servanthood begins- and you're like a blind person crossing I-405- no idea what you're heading into. You meet your first teacher. Sit at your first desk. Find your first cubby. Play with your classroom allotment of toys for the first time. Mingle with the other students- Yup. First time. You feeling me. It's like the preamble to the epilogue to the genesis.

Thing is, in the grand scheme of things, it's not important. I don't remember my kindergarten open house- if we even had one. Actually, the only thing I remember about kindergarten is the fact that we had really cool inflatable letter-people (which is the place where I first learned that consonants are boys and vowels are girls), I only missed 1 day of school all year (chicken pox), and I got in trouble for poking John LaLone in the back with a pencil and saying 'Porcupine'. So what is the point of all that? I AM AWESOME!

I was reading over one of those lists the other day- about how everything I needed to know I learned in kindergarten. It was pretty ridiculous. I mean, I'm all about exposing the flaws in the system- but even I'm not cynical enough to believe that we spend upwards of twelves years of our lives toiling in waste. Sure, a society of kindergarten dropouts might make for a nice John Lennon poster. But I'm not going to a surgeon who stopped taking classes after naptime. I wouldn't vote for a politician who stopped learning after the ABC's (although...no, I'll resist).

Besides, the open house is really just a fashion show for the parents. It's a way for us to size up the "competition", get a feel for the teacher, and accumulate just enough information to formulate our own hypothesis about how the education program is run there. From there, we determine what the appropriate level of involvement should be, and proceed accordingly. Look Sandy- I'm a busy man. I'm not going to give myself to you unless I absolutely have to.

So after our initial foray into the cold, cruel world of kindergarten, where is my head at? (This is the point where you just have to pretend like you don't know I'm going to tell you. It'd make me feel really good about myself if you just acted like there was a chance that I wasn't going to keep talking. And talking. And talking some more.)

First of all, I realize how spoiled I was last year when Delaney started pre-school. We knew her teacher, who is an amazingly wonderful woman who has a heart of gold. We never worried for an instant about whose hands she was in- in fact, her teacher was one of the primary reasons why we went with the preschool we did. So it really struck me this year when we met Delaney's teacher for the first time.

I guess I was expecting an angel, or some other form of supernatural being. Apparently I wanted her to be glowing, softly, and speak with a voice that both made me tremble with fear and cry tears of sweet joy and rest in the eternal peace that I had found. I obviously wanted to feel like I knew every word ever spoken or written from the beginning of time until the end of existence simply by being associated with her. Basically all I wanted from her kindergarten teacher was for her to be God.

If she couldn't pass for a deity, I was definitely hoping she'd be hot. I mean, who doesn't want their child to have an attractive teacher of the opposite gender- I'll bet those teachers have no problem eliciting help for extra-curricular functions. Actually, I wasn't hoping that. Not because I actually didn't hope for that. I just don't want to get punched in the arm by my wife when she reads this.

After meeting her, I can definitely say she's not God. And 'no comment' on the hotness factor.

That's not to say that I believe Delaney's kindergarten teacher will eat the children, or cause them to speak ill of our way of life. She seemed very nice, with a pleasant and gentle persona. She'll probably be a great teacher. It's just that, as I blogged about previously, we are essentially like people who lease a car, like it, decide they want to buy it, buy it, and then sublease it. At the end of the day, it's our names on the title- but we're not going to be the ones driving it (except on weekends, when we use our spare key that we kept from the subleaser to break into it and take it for joyrides). Daddy and mommy will always be daddy and mommy- it just won't be as exclusive.

I'm not sure what I was hoping for, and I don't want to make it seem like I was disappointed, or that I'm fearful for the coming year. It was just...different. To Delaney's kindergarten teacher- if you by chance happen to read this one day, just strike the 'not' from the 'not God' part, replace 'no comment' with 'heck yeah' on the looks department and just skip the rest of the blog. It's not that good anyways.

Hey, that doesn't mean the rest of you can leave!

The other worry is that our kids will be pushed to the side. I suspect most parents feel like their children are 'special', 'gifted', and 'need attention' and feel concern about other kids getting in the way of that. The difference is that our children, because of their inherent genetic structure and residual awesomeness, are special, gifted, and need attention. Last year, there was no problem- Delaney was in a small classroom in a small,small school. This year, she'll be a little fish swimming with sharks, baracudas, and Crocosaurusi.

You need to see this movie, just to tell other people that they should see this movie. It has Urkel in it...and it's the worst movie ever made.

All in all, I think it's going to be a good year- if you can tell such things from first dates. It's still frightening to think about the uncertainty that these next years hold. The fact that I am handing over the reins of child-rearing to a system that is falling apart is a little disconcerting, honestly.

But therein lies the beauty of the situation. As I stood there outside the brick walls of Sandy Knoll, talking with Sara about our first impressions, I realized that there was the opportunity here. I was able to look at the situation, take my fears and concerns, and repackage them as a chance for hope. Sure, if we stand idly by then the tidal wave of irrelevance could sweep our daughter and carry her to the land of the Golden Arches. But we have a chance to be involved, and if we're involved, and we keep up on things, and get involved in the goings-on of the school, then we can make sure that not only will our daughter receive the best education for her- but for those other little makos and stingrays as well.

Picture- http://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BNDY2NTM2MzAyM15BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwNjk1MTIwNA@@._V1._SY317_CR6,0,214,317_.jpg

Shool days

So in a month, both of my kids are going to be in school. Shane will be in preschool somewhere, and Delaney will begin her real-life scholastic journey in the Big K. How did it all come to this?

I'm not normally the nostalgic type. I tend to get lost in whatever moment I'm in, and when I do venture out of my cave, it is often to peer into the crystal ball of the future (and even that is usually just to see what cool new movies or games are coming out)

Oh dear. Well, that's rather ominous

So trying to process the school genesis has made for an interesting journey these past few weeks. At summer's beginning, I didn't think about it too much. After the debacle that was my job last summer, I was determined to milk Summer 2011 for all its worth. I even set up photo albums on Facebook, determined to take tons of pictures to document all the fun we were having. And gosh darnit, it worked! We've had a blast- and there's still a month left (including a trip to the cabin).

But all that fun has a price, and the price is Time. Now it's August- which means that school starts next month. And I've started thinking about it (just a little bit, mind you) and what it means for us. And the truth is, I really have no freaking clue.

Our lives are about to receive the most seismic shift they've seen up until this point- school. Say it with me, in your most deepest, ominoustest voice- SCHOOL. I feel a little bit like the Fellowship, when they heard the drums pounding in Moria, except these Orcs pick their noses and pass gas and make fun of the Orcs who are different and teach other Orcs (who are actually Elves who just played in the mud) inappropriate phrases.

It wouldn't be so disorienting to think about if Shane wasn't starting preschool this year. Shane has always been our anchor to the good old days. Delaney has grown up in a heartbeat it seems, but it hasn't shook us too badly because Shane has always been right there- little Shane, tagging along with his thumb in his mouth and blankey over his shoulder. Little Shane, mispronouncing his 'R's and mindlessly repeating nonsense phrases.

Except that Shane is going to be 4 in less than two months. Not 3. Not even 2. 4. 4!

I'm trying to wrap my head completely around what this means- and I can't do it. Not even close. I mean, sure, I know that there will be some cosmetic changes. The kids will start being gone during the day. They'll start to make friends, and have teachers, and learn new stuff, and we'll have to buy (gasp!) clothes that match.

But the ramifications of all these surface level changes- they're huge! Sara and I have been the buffer between our children and the world. We've been their window. Their door. We've been able to (largely) protect them from what we think they should be protected from and teach them what we think they should be taught.

And they've loved us for it! They love spending time with us. We're superhero rockstars to them. Heck, for all they know, their dad is the biggest, strongest dude out there! And mommy cooks the best food in the whole wide world!

Now, that's going to change. They are going to realize that when some kids says 'My dad can beat up your dad', that kid is probably right. I think we still have a few more years of 'my dad is pretty darn cool'...but it's never gonna be the same, and my fear is that 'Dad is cool' will eventually wane to 'Dad, stop talking to my friends- you're embarrassing me!'. (Which won't actually stop me from talking to their friends, but it might slow me down...a little)

Plus we're putting their education in the hands of strangers. Granted, strangers who have gone through 4+ years of post-secondary education to learn how to be education-doting strangers, but strangers nonetheless. Perhaps more frightening is the thought that we're putting their social education in the hands of their peers- who have been influenced by their parents. Trust me folks- I'm a parent, and I know that parents are bad influences on kids.

Up until this point, we've had control over their friends and social relationships. Play date didn't go so well? We'll just 'lose' that phone number. Things getting testy outside? 'Hey kids, time to come in for...um...well, it's time to come in!'. Or, 'hey, I like hanging out with that set of parents, we should totally go over there again and make our kids play together'.

Not in kindergarten though. We drop them off (of course I'm dropping my kids off- do you know what kind of shenanigans go on during a bus-ride? Public transportation is the cesspool of morality!!!) into a sea of potential deviants and miscreants and probably kids who like to torture ants. We don't know what they're parents were thinking, but we will surely find out soon.

Of course, part of me is overreacting. In case you haven't noticed (or if you tend to just skim my blog and look for cool pictures), I tend to overreact a lot. It's part of living in the moment I guess. I imagine that there are scores of other parents out there who feel the same way, and I know we'll get through it.

And they'll meet new people. Make new friends. There's lots of good kids out there, waiting to be blessed by knowing my seed. This is but the first step in a lifelong journey of changes.

It's just hard to think about the changes that are going to start happening in a month. Not all at once...but a slow, gradual slide as I cease to be the focal point of their lives and move into a position of servitude. It's difficult to see the joy and light on their faces, so innocent and naive, while I lie in bed at night, knowing that in one short month, life is going to change- forever.

Delaney and Shane, I know you'll read this one day (because that's just how I roll- you're my kid, you read my blog). I just want you to know that I love you very much. It's been a wonderful ride these past five years. I've been blessed beyond blessed to have been able to spend so much time with you. I know that I have made my share of mistakes, and I sometimes get distracted by stupid things easily. But you are both the world to me, and I would never trade a single moment of these past five years for anything. I look forward to seeing where God takes you in life- you both have the talent to do whatever you want.

Now about keeping that room clean...

Pic:http://www.thepaltrysapien.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/Palantir_Stone.jpg