tuckova

Two weeks of school down. Squire’s already lost his
locker key and missed a couple homework assignments, but he seems to be
holding onto the lunch card, which is impressive. And I think the
school supplies thing went okay. Ah, the school supplies thing: I
promised Julia I’d tell.

In June, the teachers hand out a list of supplies. This list
is all the things the students will need in addition to the previous years’
supplies, so you have to remember what all that stuff was (i.e.: the
special little white shoes for gym class that became cottage shoes in
the summer? remember you need to replace those now; they’re not on the
list) and also get the stuff that’s on the list new this year (
i.e.: four paintbrushes: three large and round, one flat. The large and
round ones have to be different sizes, which you didn’t know, so Day1
you’ll be back at the store getting different sizes). And you also have
this stack of notebooks to buy, different sizes and different lines.
And even different pens with different ink colors. And each notebook is
supposed to have the kid’s full information on it, AND a plastic cover.
No store is going to have all the notebooks, all the right sized
covers, all the pens. So the week before school starts is a mass of
parents running around the stationery stores and already resenting the school for all of
this, the purpose of which is as far as I can tell to rob you of the
last week of summer.

This year I asked Friar to do the shopping with Squire,
because last year I nearly had a nervous breakdown in the "tea egg and
sugar company" trying to find 6 each of four different kinds of
notebooks with the corresponding plastic covers. When facing a nervous breakdown: Delegate. They went to three
different stores and still didn’t get everything, but finally we got
the whole list checked off.

And then in September you drop the kids off at the school,
marching bravely through the doors in their new backpacks (when Squire
started first grade, his backpack was full of so many supplies that he
actually tipped over backwards), and 45 minutes later they pop back
out. And the list has changed over the summer, it has always changed,
and this year I realized that a Clever Parent would have waited til Day
1, asked for the list on the 45 minute day, and then gotten the stuff, because the first
week of school is a JOKE and I feel like a PD Eastman dog: The parents
are going around and around. "Go around again!"

Anyway, two weeks. We have the tutor again, so that’s going
well. And we’re remembering this
year that life exists beyond school. Last night we played Catan, and
Squire and I worked to sing all staccato like Regina Spektor and we
worked on dinner together, because it’s fun, and because I maintain the
hope that through cooking he’ll come to appreciate a more balanced
diet. Thursday night as Squire piled his plate with the third helping
of pasta
and cheese (our ironic nod to the Italian pasta
strike), bypassing the homemade primavera sauce and the juicy chunks of
chicken for which the pasta was supposed to be a side dish, I realized
that he eats like a college student. First, there’s the stunning
quantities, with no parallel weight gain. Also, there’s the fixation on
white foods. In college, you gravitate towards white food cause it’s
easy to cook, but Squire genuinely loves the stuff. Toast!
Awesome, my favorite! Pasta and white cheese, mmmmm. RAMEN NOODLES
ALWAYS YUMMY. Maybe when he goes to college he’ll have a love affair
with vegetables just to continue in his bizarrosity.

We’re doing well, I hope you are, too.