Third Graders, Please Step Forward...

The Second Grade emotional roller coaster is still jerking and circling down the tracks...

         Kindergarten registration in progress,

                 and Pre-School applications, yep, still empty...

I have no clue how I'm going to pull off making tonight's meal without heading to the store, or how to wrestle three kids into the tub and sedate a deep-sleep before 9:00pm, to somehow finish these last weeks of school, so who is already thinking about preparation for Third Grade in September? ...well, every mother with a child on the Second floor, that's who!

"Did you request a teacher?"

"What class is Coldyn going in next year?"

"Well...hopefully not in with your boy's demeanor, sour mouth, or within a clammy hand's reach of yours, and yes, we will again be busy whenever your child's birthday party is..." 

This time I say, I'm skipping the teacher requesting, and simply just let me hand pick the 18 children, influencing my child's behavior for the next 10 months. Straight to the source- let's set the tone I'm wishing upon my home after school days, skip waving steak knives at the dinner table, and the slamming of bedroom doors while my foot is still attached...  

Oh, how life could be a bit more joyous, if my 8 year-old boy sat with a sweet little pair of focused pigtails, instead of with Captain Star Wars, laser shooting everything, and adding a string of robot-talk swear words to every activity. And certainly my kid's day would be happier, thus making him much more enjoyable, without the tension of the kid who called his shirt, "girly crap," who instantly introducing himself to Mama's lengthy stay away from that brat list: 

Bias, naturally! But sure, I would be completely suitable for the third grade student placement. I could fairly pick and choose, and without all the stacks of paperwork or time wasted on lotto drawing...Nope, by the eye of Mama! Simply line 'em up, like selecting farmer's market fruit... smell, squeeze, check for the rotten, and one's leaving a bad taste in the mouth of my boy...and with their parents displayed, before friendships were established, a must.

As simple as Duck, Duck, Goose- No, No, Hell No, Aw she's cute, No, So sweet, Yes, your daddy is a hottie, but your mother is a dysfunctional basket case, so no, No, If only your tattletale was as cute as your curly ponytail... No!

Okay, girl who shared the hairy cookies last Christmas, you and your mystery kitchen, out. Instead, we'll trade for the boy who lives in the $400,000 estate, clearly his kitchen is extravagant, cleaned by a maid, or his mother will pay $4.50 a piece for beautifully decorated treats; fresh from a licenced bakery, and without the Ecoli, ruining my Mall day, by keeping my kid home puking on the couch.

Mother with giant van, who drives near my house! Greetings! Well, I just think, not only should our kids be in the same class, but they should be in the same sports, activities, and similar schedules as well... I'll even leave the porch light on for you!

Child who loves to read, uses the word "Please" more than "stupid," brushes his teeth after lunch, also goes to bed at 7:30pm, still watches Max and Ruby, and takes extra kids on family vacations; I think I speak for my son, when I say, "Let's be best of friends!"

Reagan, Jordan, Hannah... Perfect, the three smartest girls in the entire third grade, take the immediate seats closest circling my child. Write large and clear, keep your work free of all things obstructing his view, and complete the homework before it reaches home to the "Don't ask me!" mother! 
"I'll help you, Coldyn!" is already filling the air, and need for bribing good grades just went from $20 a piece, to a buck.

Chubby girl, knock-knees, boy who always forgets his sneakers, and kid who can't tie his shoes, all in... as I can already see victory and joy in my child's sweet face; yes, this year he will be the fastest kid in his gym class! Yeah, buddy!

Welcome, the boy who never has a birthday party and the girl embarrassed by her house, unfortunate for you indeed, however any less wasted Saturdays driving to children's parties, the better for me!

And you, I've seen your mother volunteer for every holiday, HSA, field trip, and even the damn dunk tank, Say no more... Welcome classroom mom!

Now, add a few kids with multiple younger siblings...as my child should never be alone with urine drenched homework, outrageously over-sharing stories, or purple marker covering his every project. Include, the little boy with the always happy and sweet mother (like so sweet, I need to get close enough to find out what's in her prescription) mother!

Okay, don't want the kid who never zips his coat, sneezes on the crayons, or the girl who skips the seasonal flu shot and has washable-marker on her hands for days. Certainly, I have enough crap shared by a toddler licking shopping carts and a Kindergartner insistent upon sharing grape chap stick.  

Perhaps the glue eater should pair up with the loud-mouthed obnoxious boy, and the booger picker with the boy who likes to poke things with paperclips, but happily in another classroom. 

Additionally, by the power vested in a pissed-off mother, the boy who busted my son's lunch box, and the other who punched him on the bus, you'll both be repeating the second grade...in another state, Amen!

What a successful year of school, so closely on the horizon...
A five star teacher recommendation unnecessary. Perhaps, the teacher won't even be hiding in the elevator for frequent smoke breaks, or storing a flask in the drawer with the stapler and confiscated toys. Her year could be as pleasant as mine!

After all, the real sculpting of my child, either loving school, or learning new ways to make farting noises and destroy things with pencil lead, is held in the germ-covered hands of his classmates, not the perfect teacher. Even a super-hero can not undo the works of a class full of dysfunctional behaviors, bad attitude rubbers, and peer pressure demands.   

So why bother picking the teacher? Save buying printer ink just to type the teacher request to the Principle, and printing it twice, as the first falls victim to grape jelly, and the second rides in the visor of your car for weeks after the deadline, anyhow... 

So Third grade, desired teacher or not, here we come! Probably ten minutes late, with shoes untied, breakfast still in the mouth, and a sibling squirming in peanut butter-covered p.j.s...but with passion, a fake smile, and the coolest damn sneakers, a weeks worth of groceries will buy!

I'm pretty confident, my children will still have that mother: the one, power reading last chapters out loud, the night before a book report is due, blocking bus lanes to sign agendas, and giving great advice like, "hit him back," or "I have no clue, ask the smart kid in the class!" No matter the grade, or the teacher, so lets just survive the summer first...   

      

But, who wouldn't want this cool dog in their class and on their dodge ball team, anyway?