Category Archives: school

Routine

Posted on August 25, 2011 | Leave a comment

I wrote this post for a friend of mine I met through Studio 30 which is an online writer’s site.  She asked me to write something for her website and I jumped at the chance.  You can see this post and all of hers and check out her site here: NakedGirlinaDress 

My wife and I have worked diligently to try and create a set of routines for our kids. We have routines for bedtime, bath time, and dinnertime, even what to do when Daddy comes out of the bathroom after enchilada night.  While anytime you add kids into an equation things have the possibility to degenerate into mass chaos, for the most part, our routines have served us and the kids well.

This week, we’ll be working on our 1st day of school routine. For the past 5 years, we have used this week to begin having earlier bedtimes, earlier wake up times, and calisthenics (ok, maybe not the calisthenics).  The hope is, when the first day of school gets here, the routine we have worked on will be ready so all runs smoothly.  My wife and I have spent ample time devising our plan for the first day.  Were I to write down how it is playing in our heads, it would work better than a plan hatched by the A-Team to turn a Jeep Wrangler into a M1 Abrams tank.

Here is what my wife and I are planning on the routine being for the 1st Day of School:

Sunday night: Have dinner together. Kids get a shower while my wife lays out their clothing for the next day.  Get the kids in bed before 9pm.  Wake up at 6:30 so my wife and I can get ready before we wake the kids up at 7am.  Wife gets in the shower, I go down to make coffee and take the dog out.  Wake the kids up at 7am. They make their beds, brush their teeth, and get dressed.  By 7:20 they are downstairs. I make them breakfast since I’ll have off that day.  They eat in the kitchen while the three of us talk.  By 7:45 their mom is calling them upstairs to get their hair done. Hair gets done, lunches go in to their school bags, they watch a little TV and at 8:20 we head to the bus stop.

Then the Sunday night before school will come and here is what inevitably will happen:

Dinner together, but after years of eating applesauce, my kids will decide they hate it.  Shower time, which has gone so well this week, will hit some bumps.  No one wants to go first so I’ll make the kids pick a number between 1 and 10 to decide who goes first. The oldest wins and the youngest begins to cry. We’ll get through showers and go through 57 gallons of water (I don’t know what they wash in there).  It will be a fight for the remote and what is watched on TV.  My wife will get a phone call and the 9pm bedtime turns in to a 9:45 bedtime (actually 10pm…she still has to lay out their clothing).  Monday morning, the snooze button on the alarm clock will get pushed more times than a ‘Bet All’ button on a slot machine. From 6:30am, and in 9 minute intervals, till about 7:06am this will go on.  My wife will leap in to the shower (hopefully remembering to take off her socks).  I’ll almost kill myself going down the steps with the dog to take her out which she most likely will not go. I’ll skip the fresh coffee and opt for heating up what was left in the pot from the day before.  I’ll wake up the kids like the Tasmanian Devil (lots of spitting, spinning, and shouting).  Any other day they would have been up by 7; today, they’ll be like waking the dead. The little one won’t make her bed; the big one will want to pick out her own clothing which will be the first (but not last) time my wife yells.  My wife will be trying to get ready but won’t be able to stop crying because her, “babies are getting so big” (this from the woman who only two weeks prior told me, “These kids need to go back to school”). My 4 course breakfast I was going to make will turn in to a homeless man’s Continental breakfast at a Sleep Inn.  No one will want to get their hair done. My wife starts yelling again. The dog will get a hold of a shoe, someone will drop food on her shirt and someone will forget about the lunches he put in the refrigerator.  By the time 8:20 rolls around I’ll not only surprised if we’re out the door but if the house isn’t on fire either.

This summer, like most, has been one that my wife and I relax on the daily routines. My kids have had three months’ worth of the pool, the beach, playing, riding bikes, sleepovers and staying up late.  But the summer is winding down and school is ready to begin just like our daily routines will begin again.  Yet something seems to get to all of us (even the dog) this time of year.  Something about the start of school I can’t explain and something that tells me, try as we might this week, come Monday morning; that first day is going to be anything but routine.

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Posted in kids, school

Family “Fun” Night

Posted on October 25, 2010 | Leave a comment

Every year around this time, my kids’ elementary school APT puts on their Family Fun Night.  In theory, it is a chance for the kids, with parents in tow, to get an early start to Halloween by dressing up in whatever video game character, princess, Anime hero, or fuzzy animal they want (except no gore or weapons…ninjas and Jason Vorhees need not apply).  In theory, it’s an opportunity for the kids to gather for games, snacks, and a chance to have the winning costume for a gift certificate to a retail toy store.  In theory, the kids will dance, have fun, and be on their best behavior since, even though they are there after hours, they are still in school.  In theory, Family Fun Night is just that. Fun. Fun for the entire family for a few hours on a Friday night.

In reality, Family Fun Night is like a prison riot with the prisoners dressed up for Halloween and fifty cent brownies for sale.

I’m not sure how you define “fun” but if it involves being trapped in an elementary school cafeteria with an ambient temperature approaching a Kelvin measurement with a hundred or so costumed kids who are running at a full sprint while simultaneously screaming, while a DJ plays the worst the music world can offer …then look no further. Welcome to Family “Fun” Night.

The parents, once then get in to the cafeteria, typically will scatter for one of the few tables or chairs set up along the walls of the cafe. They will also congregate in the center of the cafeteria.  Wherever they can best avoid being run in to by one of the kids, they set up their base camps and let their kids run free like the velociraptor from Jurassic Park.  The parents huddle together in groups of four or five (probably because they know there is safety in numbers) and begin to talk about how disappointing the entire event is. I sat down at one of these commune tables and heard three ladies, like the Macbeth witches, commenting on everything from the lack of games to play to why there weren’t more tables.  Welcome to Family “Fun” Night.

The kids are like a star globule at the end of the Milky Way Galaxy. Clustered together occasionally some break from the gravity field of the main group to orbit around the cafeteria. By orbit I mean running around, slamming into other kids, unfortunate parents who had to congregate in the middle of the cafeteria instead of the tables, and taking up residence in the hallway outside the cafe. Some wander aimlessly.  Some seek out their parents (90% of whom, by my estimation, are trying to stay hid amongst the shadows along the wall).  Some, well some I don’t know what are doing.  My youngest and one of her classmates, a little boy who was wearing an Incredible Hulk costume, came up to me in a panic. Tiny Hulk: “Mr. Ettele, I have to go to the bathroom and I can’t find my mom!” Me: “Okay, let’s try to find your mom.  What was she wearing?”  Tiny Hulk:  ”I don’t know but I have to pee really bad.” (he emphasized the point to me by putting both his green hands between his crossed legs) Me:  ”Well lets walk through the middle of the cafeteria and see if we can’t find her (if she hasn’t already hidden behind the stage curtain curled up in the fetal position)?”  Tiny Hulk: “Can you take me to the bathroom?”  It was at this point when I realized I as going to have to ditch this kid.  I was not about to take a boy I didn’t know very well into the bathroom and help him take off his costume to go to the bathroom.  Thankfully, a 4th grader who knew Tiny Hulk found Tiny Hulk’s mom and the two of them went to the bathroom.  Welcome to Family “Fun” Night.

The constant noise from the kids, DJ, and parents is enough to cause involuntary tremors in your spine and arms and have dogs howling from miles around.  For those poor citizens with houses near the school, I can only imagine Friday night was the closest thing they had ever gotten to living next to La Guardia Airport.  My headache from that night was only halted after about 6 beers on Saturday night. Welcome to Family “Fun” Night.

The games that night consisted of a bean bag throw, a family pumpkin decorating contest (where it doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to discover which ones were done by industrious parents while their kids no doubt played video games), a “guess the number of candy corns in the jar” contest (Answers ranged from 17 to 5,000.  The real number was 253), and a grade by grade costume contest.  A costume contest emceed by the DJ.  A costume contest that lasted (read: agonizingly drug on by the DJ) over an hour (the lone bright spot was my youngest won the best costume for Kindergarten).  To hold kids’ attention for an hour, when they are hopped up on sugar and adrenaline is like trying to keep a Lindsay Lohan sober.  Welcome to Family “Fun” Night.

Dodging kids sliding across the floor, trying to escape the blast furnace heat of the cafeteria, trying to find out where my kids had gotten to, doing my best to avoid pleas for help in the bathroom, listening to the worst pop music has to offer, having to overhear parents who would rather complain than help, and being subjected to the marathon costume contest (which bordered on the United States’ definition of enhanced interrogation).  Welcome to Family “Fun” Night.

When the lights came back on and the music stopped, I rustled my kids together, made sure all pieces of their costume were on their person and made my way to the exit like Mel Gibson goes on drunken tirades.  The cool air of the night focused my senses and cleared the ringing from my ears.  I was all but dragging my kids away from the school and to our car.  I would have felt bad about my behavior but I noticed every other parent dragging their kids by the wrist to get to their cars.

I got us all in and jockeyed for position to get home.  Once we turned out from the school and got on the road, I asked my kids, “So, did you have fun at Family Fun Night?”  Both of them, emphatically replied, “Yeah!”.  And why not?  Emma won $20 to Toys ‘r’ Us for her costume.  Hannah got to hang out with her friends. Both kids ate a lion’s share of baked goods and drank juice and soda like Vikings drank mead.  They listened to music, I’ve been told, kids enjoy.  And they got to dress up for Halloween.  Despite all of these things, I asked them again, thinking they may have confused “Did you have fun” for “Do you want ice cream”.  They responded again, “YES Daddy!”.  I thought about it for a second and realized this is what my life is all about…my kids.  They laughed, they danced, they got to pig out on stuff no child should eat after 7pm, and they got to dress up and they had fun.  How could they not have had fun?  Which makes me happy and which also means, by default, I guess I had fun too.  Welcome, to Family Fun Night.

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Posted in Emma, Hannah, kids, school

Tagged

1st Day

Posted on September 5, 2010 | Leave a comment

I’m not sure of the historical significance behind August 31st? For I know August 31st could have been the day the Ming Dynasty fell or the day Shakespeare decided to begin writing? Regardless of what may or may not have happened on August 31st for anyone else at any other time in our Earth’s history, this past August 31st, 2010, held a deep significance for the members of my family.

My wife had been dreading August 31st since the beginning of summer. Just a mention of this day had her crying like someone just ran over our dog and just after she got done watching Terms of Endearment. So this summer I hid calendars, pulled batteries out of watches, and kept talk about the end of August to a bare minimum to avoid having to explain to the kids why Mommy was in the bathroom crying.
You see, August 31st, 2010 was the first day of school. More specifically, it was our youngest daughter’s first day of Kindergarten.

Now first days of school are nothing new to my family. Hannah started with a twice a week for two hours nursery school program (that was the first day I had to talk Alicia down off the roof for).  Every end of August since our days at the Pennside Presbyterian Nursery School, my wife and I have ushered one or both of our children to some sort of voluntary or state mandated institute of learning.  The only thing that had kept my wife out of Wernersville State Mental Hospital had been the kids’ schools either didn’t last longer than breakfast at a busy diner or one of them was home. The one that stayed home, for the past four years, had been our Emma (She could be found clung to Alicia’s leg like a pilot fish clings to a Tiger Shark’s gills most of the time.).

As much as I tried to manipulate the space time continuum this summer, sure enough, Tuesday, August 31st came. The morning my kids were, according to Alicia, “abandoning their mother”, I think we all got up with butterflies in our stomachs and all for different reasons.
Hannah (who is inching ever closer to the neuroses her mother enjoys) has gotten this way since she was in nursery school. Emma had the nervous energy of excitement (she was pumped to ride the bus). I was excited for another school year to start (although Hannah would be starting division this year which does not bode well for her if she thinks I can help her) and Alicia had butterflies because it would be the first day no one would be clinging to her leg. She was one “I love you Mommy” from the girls away from having her head split open.
But we all got up and all began our morning routines. Emma and Hannah ate breakfast, brushed their teeth, and got dressed (their clothing already picked out 3 weeks prior by their mother), and the three of us all managed to avoid Alicia, who said she was getting dressed and doing her hair (but could have been lying on the bathroom floor in the fetal position for all I knew).

When Alicia finally came down the stairs, the three of us were engrossed in a rerun of Full House, so we didn’t notice her at first. Once she walked in front of the television, I snapped out of my trance and saw her face. She had a melancholy look on her face and it was at this point when I started to empathize with my wife.
Where I had seen this day as just another step in our kids’ lives and a good excuse to chop their bedtimes by a half an hour, Alicia saw it as our children never being our “babies” again and their childhood essentially over (it’s been said that girls often marry men who are like their fathers…I may have married someone who was very much like my mother). There was to be no tugging at her shirt or requests for Fruit Snacks once the bus came to take her children away.
As I watched my wife’s emotion I realized something. The thing about being a father is no matter how much I try or think I do, I will never (can never) have the type of connection Hannah and Emma have with their mom. Short of passing a bowling ball (and then trying to breastfeed it) there is something to be said for having your stomach used as a Holiday Inn for 9 months. About feeling your baby inside of you. Kicking. Moving. Giving you monstrous indigestion. That all creates a connection that, on this day, could only let me understand how Alicia felt and not share the box of Kleenex she was plowing through.

Everyone finally was ready, the kids had backpacks and lunch boxes ready, I was dressed for work, and Alicia managed to remain not so surprisingly calm about all of it (credit to my wife, she is extraordinarily strong when she needs to be).  We headed up to the corner of Pondview Drive and Canvasback Court to our designated bus stop with the 75 other parents with their kids.  Alicia fought back the urge to kidnap Emma and take her back to the house. The kids chit chatted with their friends. And I tried to stay clear of having to talk to anyone. No matter what any one of my family members were feeling that morning, we all managed to at the very least, put on a good face as we waited for bus number 20 to arrive.

Bus number 20 pulled up to our corner and the door swung open. I stood right next to my wife for fear she might try to get on the bus and sit with Emma. We both gave them kisses and hugs and wished them a great day at school. Hannah held Emma’s hand (which almost brought a tear to my eye) and the two of them never looked back at us as they got on their bus.

Emma made it to school. Alicia, president of the APT at Lorane Elementary, went to school too. She was going to be helping get kids to their classes and helping them through the lunch lines. So she had an opportunity to see her little girl on her first day. Emma barely paid attention to her mother let alone feel the effects of the manufactured magnitude of the day her mother had created.  Alicia told me later that it made her fell better knowing Emma was okay (even if she did get blown off by her). It made her realize our little girl was not so little anymore. And if she were okay, then Alicia was okay.

This past August 31st, 2010 was a big day. My little girl grew up in the matter of one school day as she became a Kindergartner. My wife, as much as she had initially dreaded the day had not only kept her emotions in check but by the end of the day, had accepted the empty house the full day Kindergarten program at Lorane Elementary school left for her and I was happy that they were both able to make it through their first day.

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Posted in Alicia, Emma, first day, Lorane, school