Anyone else finding the solutions to systems of linear equations today?
I thought not.
Ahhh, summer school.
Somedays I just sit here with my thumb up my ass. Other days I explain the difference between socialism and communism to one kid, dash over to check on the girl doing the packet on invertebrates, and then desperately try to relearn polynomials to drag some poor senior through his last math credit.
We're four weeks and four days into summer, but who's counting.
I feel like this is the last summer that Sophie is going to be a little girl; next year is 2nd grade, and after that, or so I've heard, moms become creatures who know nothing, and are basically in the way.
So--my goal for this summer is to, as much as possible, enjoy my little girl. Well, that and have many more drinks than I do during the school year.
Here's a quick summary of the days that have blasted by.
Soph ended up with a GREAT teacher. The scardy-Soph who wouldn't even put her face in the water at the beginning of last year now jumps off the diving board--in the deep end--and swims to the edge on her own.
(The last lesson was a bit of a gross-out comedy. Imagine a pool full of kids. Sophie has on her pink Speedo goggles and is having a tea-party at the bottom of the pool with the fairies while waiting for her turn to practice the elementary back stroke with the teacher. Suddenly she shoots to the surface. Her face a study of composed concern, she raises her hand, and in a just louder than normal voice calls out, "Teacher!" The teacher doesn't answer, as she busy drilling "Monkey/Airplane/Soldier "into the brain and body of a very reluctant student. Sophie calls again "Teacher! I need to tell you something!" Kathy, the teacher, finally heads over to Soph to ask what the problem is. Sophie tells her, "I think someone had an accident." Kathy asks, "Did someone get hurt?" Sophie whispers, "No. Somebody pooped." Kathy asks, "Are you sure?" Soph answers confidently, "Yep. It's over there. I can see little pieces coming off of it." After investigating with Soph's borrowed goggles, Kathy confirms the turd and evacuates the pool.)
We're blasting through the Little House on the Prairie books. She's taken to wearing the bonnet my mom gave her daily and calling me Ma. I really, really want to get her to start reading independently,and try and tempt her with many and varied kinds of books from the library, but she just isn't interested. This is where I start comparing her to other kids, and me to other moms, and then feeling like shit for even making the comparisons and like even worse shit for finding us both a little lacking.
As usual, I've over scheduled her, because there's nothing that makes me more crazy than trying to entertain a bored kid. Which, frankly, I'm not sure is my job, but which I do. My mom didn't taxi our asses all around town. We just played--or watched tv--or forced Jon to submit to being dressed as a girl complete with hula skirt and bikini top--but it wasn't like she was all that involved. Which I get. There were four of us. We had a built in playmate--or nemesis--and either way, there was someone to interact with. I guess my guilt at not having another kid has lead me to play mommy cruise director--a roll I'm ambivalent about. But there's craft camp and yoga and piano and cousin play dates and all other kinds of activities that we run around to. And not only do they keep Soph busy, they give me an excuse not to clean the house.