The Second Child

I am convinced that God is a cruel jokester sometimes. I am fond of saying that He gives us an incredibly wonderful, easy baby the first time, so as to sucker us into having more.

Our first daughter was the easiest baby in the world. We patted our own backs on so many occasions for our obvious parenting prowess, for we had a baby who slept through the night within a month of being born, who was always happy, who rarely cried, who still, at six-years-old, is as easygoing and sweet as it gets. And then came G.

G, born a mere 16 months after her sister, started in on us right away by steadfastly refusing to poop at the hospital, sentencing us to two extra days with a crazy and somewhat demented nurse, while we waited, hoped, and prayed for some movement. From the very beginning, she let us know she was determined to call the shots. She was ruddy and fat and loud, with no sign of the sweet "Aah Laah" cooing we'd been accustomed to with our first. She took forever and a day to sleep through the night, walked at nine months, talked conversationally at 18 months, and has been arguing with us ever since. I love her dearly, but boy she gives us a run for our money.

She starts kindergarten tomorrow. If ever a kid needed it more, I'd like to know. I will nominate her teachers for sainthood at the end of the year.

In the meantime, I continue to balance my admiration and frustration with her. Today, while buying school supplies at Target, she cheerfuly read from the school supply list provided by her teacher. Admiration.

We approached the composition notebook display. I picked up a black one. She wanted pink. I could have explained that the books go into a big pile for all of the kids to use and so color was really irrelevant, but I have also learned to pick my battles, and told her to go for it. At some point, she added a butterfly-covered spiral-bound notebook that she wanted for herself. At 50 cents, I agreed.

When I returned home, I couldn't find the composition book and alarm bells went off in my head. I asked her what she'd done with that pink book and she cheerfully explained that she'd decided she'd put it back and gotten the butterfly notebook instead, not in addition to, as I'd mistakenly assumed. As usual, at five-years-old, she thought she knew better than me and now I have to go back to Target. Frustration.

And so it goes.

Wishes

My oldest daughter had a very small stuffed rabbit with very long ears. She loved him very, very much, chewed occasionally on his ears, and took him everywhere. I can't remember where he came from, and I don't know why she became so attached to him, but he was certainly an important fixture in her life.

At some point, the rabbit got lost and though we looked high and low for him, he simply could not be found. M dealt with this fact bravely, but it was clear he was always there in the back of her mind. She might be getting ready for bed, and suddenly start crying because she was thinking of him, or stop whatever she was doing and proclaim, out of the blue, that she missed him and worried about him, wherever he might be. We tried to reassure her, suggesting that perhaps he'd finally become real, as the Velveteen Rabbit had, from being loved so much. Months went by, and numerous searches, for none of us were quite ready to fully give him up. But the truth was, that rabbit was simply gone.

Recently, M and G were on a walk with their dad, and M picked up a dandelion and blew it, scattering its seeds into the wind. Her father asked her if she'd made a wish. She had, she said, but didn't want to tell what it was, because she really, really wanted it to come true. G asked her if she'd wished for her rabbit, and M burst into tears. Clearly he would forever remain on her mind.

But here's the really weird thing. This morning, while the girls were playing in G's room, their dad wandered upstairs and there, in the middle of the bedroom floor, was a very small rabbit. He brought it to her, still foggy from sleep and certainly confused, and asked her if it was her beloved friend. She looked up and burst into tears.

Where in God's name had it come from?

Obviously, our first inclination was to ask G if she'd found the rabbit and brought it to M, because M had no idea how it had come to be on her bedroom floor. It's a conclusion that makes perfect sense to any parent, I guarantee you. But G insists she knew nothing about it. Now I'm not naive, and G has been known to try out a half-truth or two, but she always caves within minutes and admits her guilt. And in this matter, she wouldn't -not to me, or to her dad. She has so certainly and steadfastly proclaimed her innocence that it is problematic for us to press the issue any further.

If G didn't do it, where the heck did that rabbit come from? And where on earth had he been? I don't know the answer, and quite frankly, it's freaking us out a little.

M has an occasional habit of sleepwalking. Perhaps he'd been on her mind, she'd had a dream that reminded her of where it had been lost all those months ago, and she simply got up in the middle of the night and retrieved it. Perhaps we have a ghost in our house, or a stranger living in our attic. Perhaps I have an overactive imagination and G will admit a week from now that it was her all along (though that would really concern me on other levels). Or perhaps, as M is perfectly certain, a fairy heard her wish, came into her room, and brought him to her.

I don't have the answer, but I'd really like to know. Or on second thought, maybe I wouldn't. Of all the things we tell our kids are so, but have such trouble believing in ourselves, what a funny thing it is to have a little mystery like this come upon us. Why should it so impossible to believe after all, that a little girl who really, really wanted something so desperately, did see her wish come true? It's certainly a nice thing, once in a while, to have a little faith.

School Board Issues and Diversity

I can't go on without posting something about the current goings on in the Wake County Public School System. I will attempt to summarize:

A new school board majority took office this past fall. For the first time in years, a majority of members were in place who were opposed to the board's attempts at achieving diversity. For those of you not familiar with WCPSS, diversity here means attempting to keep all school populations at a mix of 40% free and reduced lunch students, 60% non free and reduced lunch. To achieve this, the board has redistricted, on an annual basis, shifting students around to try to keep that 40% f&r number steady. To parents, this meant never knowing where their kid would be attending school. To schools, it meant weak PTA's because the student body changed from year to year, never allowing for a strong PTA to be put into place.

All of this, with no viable proof that the diversity efforts had accomplished the system's goal of improving achievement among minorities, and a school board and superintendent who steadfastly stuck to their guns regardless, and who routinely ignored the voices of the parents who were directly affected by the board's decisions.

Imagine, as a parent, having a child attend three or more different schools from kindergarten through fifth grade. This is what was happening. A school board so intent on looking out for the kids was curiously deaf to the potential adverse affects caused by this routine lack of stability. How do you foster school pride, social development, or a strong PTA, when your school changes every single year?

As you can imagine, the new board, who immediately set about with voicing their desire to end the diversity policy along with their intent to try a different means to improve student achievement, has met with a great deal of hand-wringing among groups who are appalled that the school system may be abandoning its most at-risk students.

And major newspapers, like the New York Times, are following the issue closely, since Wake County is supposedly a national model for success. A shame that no one is looking closely at the issue - they'd see that there are a lot of smoke and mirrors in place when it comes to measuring that supposed success.

Recently, Del Burns, the long-time superintendent of the system and staunch supporter of diversity efforts, announced quite abruptly his intent to leave his post over his dissatisfaction over the changes. There's some debate currently going on about whether he should be asked to leave immediately, or whether he should be given until the end of June, when his contract is set to end.

Everyone is up in arms over this, since he's got so much raw experience under his belt, even while he really is acting like a spoiled teenager who's pissed because he's not getting what he wants.

It will be interesting to see how the board moves forward, in regard to Del Burns, as well as to eventual move back to neighborhood schools. I'll try to post an update here and there about it, but I will say, as one who believes that something new needs to be tried, I'm not sorry to see some changes put into place.

The Never-Ending Winter

Oh my gosh, will this winter never end??? I have been down south for eleven years, and I'm accustomed to enjoying pleasantly warm days and early blooming flowers at this point in the season.

Not this year! This is truly the coldest, longest winter I can remember. I remember posting a link on Facebook last fall, one that indicated that the Farmer's Almanac was calling for an unusually cold, wet winter for the Northeast with lots of snow. I found it amusing, and I admit to rubbing it in a bit for my northern family and friends.

Well here I sit, during the last week of February, looking outside at yet another cold, damp day, wondering if the weather forecast is correct and we will see a snow dusting tonight. Even my kids, enticed as they may be by the tease of snow on the ground, are ready for warmer weather. M has been having trouble sleeping lately - too much on her mind, she says. When asked what could possibly be bothering a six-year-old so, she tells me she can't stop thinking about the beach. God love her.

Truly, it is enough to send us to the nearest airport. Or at least send me to the hardware store for some grow lights that I could sit myself under so I won't be S.A.D. I can't imagine what my northern counterparts are feeling like right now - they're expecting a foot of snow in Maryland, on top of record snowfalls this year. That state has actually agreed to forgo up to five make-up days since most counties are already beyond their alloted snow days for the year and otherwise may have ended up being in school into July!

Ah well, the forecast for the weekend is calling for sun and temperatures in the 50's. I suppose I should be happy about that, but it was 60 degrees last Sunday, a terrible tease! No. I don't think I will be happy until the weather is solidly in the 70's, with no chance of a slip back into cold weather, when I can sit outside at night with my husband and stare at the stars as a warm breeze stirs the leaves of the trees above. I guess I really just ought to buy that house in the islands instead! Think I'll go check my lottery tickets one more time.