Recently we attended Parent-Teacher Interview night at Maya's school. This is the evening where we go and listen to other adults tell us what a sweet, quiet, well-behaved, and brilliant daughter we have. Luckily for Eric and I, Maya's school does this twice a year. It's nice to have an evening like this tip the behaviour scale in Maya's favour. It more than makes up for the sassy attitude she cops at home.
Maya's classroom teacher is wonderful. She's sweet, kind, but very firm with Maya. She shared some of Maya's writing with us, which included one particularly sweet drawing of Eric and Maya on a "date" at Tim Horton's. Maya's attention to detail was remarkable: Dad was dressed in camo shorts, a black t-shirt, and a backwards baseball cap.
Her teacher went on to tell us all about what a great student Maya is. She told us how she relies on Maya to the "caboose" of the line when the class walks down the hall. Maya is quick to keep the other kids in line, telling the teacher when the arrive at their destination who was talking, running, or pushing. We had a good laugh at this, because we have long referred to Maya as our little hall monitor. She is sure to let us know when someone else breaks the rules!
"Ha ha ha, that's great! But does she have any friends?" I asked. I'm picturing Maya as an annoying little bossy pants, barking orders at her peers. Mrs. D assured me that she does, in fact, have lots of friends. She's never alone at play time and all the kids want to play with her.
After we met with her classroom teacher, Eric and Maya wandered upstairs to find her reading teacher while Ben and I popped into the pre-K classroom to check things out. Maya's school starts pre-K at 3.5 (which Ben will be in the fall) and I wanted to know how to get him enrolled.
We walked into the pre-K room Ben's eyes got very large. The toys and books and puzzles were a little overwhelming, I think. He kept turning around and taking a step towards one thing and then stop and see something else and start heading in another direction. He finally settled on the kitchen and got to work making soup with a whole chicken with a side of scrambled eggs and pizza. Looks like all the time spent watching Food TV are paying off.
The pre-K teacher was lovely and encouraging. She watched Ben play and asked him a few questions. She said he was a very cute, sweet little boy. I can't say I disagree with her. We put Ben's name on a list for her to call when they open up registration in a few months. Keep your fingers crossed that he gets a spot in the class!
It took some skill to get Ben out of that magical room, but the lure of real cookies down the hall finally did the trick. We stopped to chat with a woman at a display about ordering boxes of fresh, local fruits and vegetables. I was asking her questions about the program when it all came crashing down.
Literally.
Ben had crawled underneath the table while I was talking to the woman and one table leg buckled, sending her perfectly arranged display of pamphlets, information, photographs, water, and veggies sliding to the hallway floor. Luckily Ben wasn't hurt. He was just so embarrassed that all he could do is stand there and cover his face. The woman wasn't concerned about her display, thankfully, she wanted to make sure Ben was ok. And he was. Physically. Once I got everything picked up, dried off, and rearranged I was able to get the poor little guy out of the scene of the crime and talk to him. He came around once he saw the cookies. I'm fairly sure he immediately forgot all about the table incident. Cookies have a similar amnesia-inducing effect on me in that I immediately forget how many I've eaten.
It wouldn't be a Whitbread family outing without at least one thing being broken and somebody in tears. I'm just glad it wasn't me for once.
