Today marked my last Thursday to volunteer in Caroline's class this year. I'm not going to lie, it was bittersweet. The kids in her class are really very sweet, even when they don't listen to me during guiding reading time. I'm willing to forgive them, because they really are good kids.
I can't say I'll miss the horribly loud lunchtime visits, but in the back of my mind I know that pretty soon Caroline will object to my presence in the lunchroom. Or, anywhere near her, for that matter. Wait, does that always happen? It's not required that all kids become mortified by their parent's existence, is it? I'm a nice mom. I don't remember not wanting my mom around. I think? Well, except for the time she met me at the school bus when I was in high school. That I didn't appreciate.
School is winding down; only a week left. The grades are in and the kids are falling apart, so the teachers have enlisted their student's help in getting the rooms all packed up. This morning we worked on some really cute Father's Day stuff and I was in charge of the coffee can full of buttons. I still cannot figure out how to photocopy something double-sided BUT I can handle button distribution. The kids needed buttons for their projects and they each took their sweet time picking out the perfect buttons. Unfortunately, the can was 1/3 full of pink buttons. Pink buttons are nice, but, as 2nd grade gender rules dictate, pink is for girls. In case you didn't know.
So, we spent a great deal of time picking out "dad color" buttons.
I was amused by how entertained the kids were with the buttons. Buttons! An old coffee can filled with buttons. Several of them, my kid included, enthusiastically hovered over the buttons. They picked through them. Sorted them. Marveled at some of the odd shapes. Begged to bring some home. One girl kept on coming over to my button station and would say "I just really love buttons."
Eight year olds and buttons. Who knew?
I guess that goes to show you that they really do not need every battery operated or electronic gadget and gizmo available. I told Caroline I was going to get rid of the Wii and her DS and replace them with a big bag of buttons. She didn't seem to think that was a good idea, but I'm not surprised by that.
It's the things like this, you know, button fascination, that make you smile.
Which, totally makes up for last night when Caroline cried because she "felt left out because all the other kids don't have to wear helmets when they roller skate."
I really do not have patience for self pity (my own self pity excluded, of course) and basically told her, in a very unsympathetic tone, to quit it.
Then I believe I borrowed a line from the parent's handbook and asked her if she would feel left out when all the helmetless kids fall down and have their brains splattered on the cement while she's happily alive with her brain intact?
I believe my question was met with a loud sigh and the most pitiful, red teary eyed face I've seen in a while.
But today, Caroline and all her classmates are back to being cute and adorable. In a few minutes I'm going to attend their music class open house. From what I hear, the music teacher they have this year puts on quite a show.
Hopefully I'll get some good pictures.