Meet the Teacher

So, yesterday was Meet the Teacher both for Henry and Ceci.  I am currently very at ease with both of their classroom situations, but that was not the case yesterday.

Ceci's teacher is going to be great.  They have made some changes at the school since last year, and as a whole it seems more organized and better run.  The teachers for her class were very engaging and kind.  The classroom was neat and not too crowded.  I think it is going to be a great fit for Ceci.

Henry going to kindergarden has been a hard thing for me to swallow, as many of you know.  I have gone back and forth with what to do, homeschool, charter school, public school, while all along dreading the looming changes.  So, I decided on straight up public school.  We are zoned for a great school, and a number of people whom I respect have sent their children to public school, and have been honest with me about the pros and cons.  Ultimately, I feel this will be the best situation for Henry.  So, I went into it yesterday knowing enough about the possible teachers, having a feeling he was going to get a certain one (they don't tell us until Meet the Teacher the Friday before school starts), and all in all feeling good about the whole situation.  While at Ceci's school that morning, I saw a mom that I know whose older daughter also goes to Henry's school but is in the fourth grade.  This mom said that she heard the music teacher was going to be teaching kindergarden.  I said huh, that's nice, all the while assuming, well, he would not be MY kid's teacher, this loosey-goosey musician masquerading as a kindergarden teacher.  (No offense to the Blackman family.)  So, later on we head on over to Henry's school and wander around a bit until we find the room with all the teacher assignments listed.  I look on the first list, the teacher Henry & I were hoping for, but not actually expecting, and he wasn't in that class.  I look on the next list and see Henry's name!  And what class is he in?  That's right, Mr. Loosey-goosey.  I am trying to hold it together, and I say to Henry, "You are not in Ms. S's class, you are in Mr. W's class."  Henry says, in awe and amazement, "My teacher is a BOY!"  I don't think he realized male teacher's existed.  (Even though his very own father and grandfather are teachers.)  I guess they just haven't existed in his world.  Until now.  So, the PE teacher kindly escorts us to Mr. W's class, which was convenient because she and I had a good discussion about the broken wrist and participation in PE.  Of course they will be doing tumbling, so I guess Henry will be sitting that one out.  Anyway, we get to Mr. W's classroom, which is very nicely decorated, not too wild, and there is, shocker, music playing in the background.  (Jack Johnson's Curious George soundtrack, no less!)  Henry is feeling shy and hiding behind my legs.  We talk briefly with Mr. W, and by talk, I mean I babble on, making hardly any sense and making a series of awkward statements.  Then we leave in a cloud of nervous laughter and "See you Monday!"  

So, later that day, I lose it.  I beat myself up for how awkward I was during the meet and greet.  I start to second guess my decision and tear apart this poor man that I know nothing about.  "He's probably in way over his head (He's not), he is probably brand new (he's taught there for years), he is probably a terrible disciplinarian (He is actually very structured, not a yeller, very calm, and exactly what I had wanted and put in Henry's letter, yes, they do know what they are doing)."  How do I know all this?  (The true stuff, I mean) Well, today two people I know who know him as a teacher, one a former colleague of his and the other a parent of 2 former students, called to quell my paranoia.  Both of these people also know Henry very well and said they think it would be a great fit for him.  Now, I was considerably calmed down by this morning,  but this really helped.  

Hopefully Monday won't be nearly as hard.  I am really hoping I got most of the agony out of my system yesterday.  I mean, I fully expect to shed some tears, and at both schools, but that's why God created sunglasses.