Goose is supposed to return to his pre-K Montessori* on Monday but I’m afraid he’s going to have to ditch. I won’t tell him he’s ditching, though, because that probably sends the wrong message. Is it even ditching if you didn’t know you were supposed to go? I’m going with “no, not for 3 year olds.”
*I specifically mention that Goose attends a Montessori school, not because I think it makes us fancy, but because I advocate Montessori education concepts wherever you can get your hands on them. Including do-it-yourself at home.*
Q begins kindergarten on Wednesday. Which you already know because I keep sharing that bit of big news and then screaming a little. I am claiming every day between now and then as a hug-and-kiss fest. Every day except for part of Monday, that is, because…
I’ve been called for jury duty.
People, I would sooner give up my right to ever vote again than miss one moment of Q’s first day at real school. Yes, I realize the magnitude of what I’m saying and what people have given up for the right to vote. However. I may loathe that our lives will now be beholden to attendance policies, but I want every second of Q’s experience entering kindergarten to be warm and calm and secure. I’ll be damned if jury duty is going to screw that up for us.
I still remember my first day of kindergarten. I was so excited, knowing for weeks what I would be wearing that day, backpack carefully packed well in advance. Somewhere there is a picture of me in my “first day of school” outfit on our front porch in Southern Illinois, all smiles and hopefulness.
Smiles and hopefulness that would last no more than an hour because I would find myself turned away from school upon arrival due to some gap in my vaccination record. An event that may very well have colored the rest of my school days and influenced my haphazard approach to attendance policies. For the rest of my life, I would do the bare minimum that would land me that “A,” although I would still land the “A.” Apparently there was something wrong with that approach, but I never could get a straight answer as to what the true offense was. Something about setting a bad example for the kids that couldn’t get the “A” at half-power. I may have missed the day that they explained “responsibility for others’ behavior.”
Now I’m faced with teaching my children (wow, I can’t say “my boys” anymore) the importance of a strong attendance record and… I don’t even know what goes hand-in-hand with that.
I am ill-equipped in this arena already, without the dab-blasted Harrison County court system mucking up my efforts.
For crap’s sake, I just want to focus right now. All of my primary distractions are behind me and it’s time to hunker down and think about my boys and their new sister. It’s time to have their backs as they start school again next week and to do it with confidence. But damn if I am not irate at the idea of being distracted by jury duty.
Jury duty! What the hell?
I realize that this post has devolved into a moaning bit of nothing. I recognize that the control-freak side of me has reared her ugly head. But still.
This is where you tell me how to get out of jury duty and/or make me feel better in general about any number of things I’ve just complained about. Because?
I am this close to showing up at court in my underwear, muttering “Fry ‘em!” incessantly, and possibly feigning morning sickness all over the plaintiff’s attorney. Honestly, none of that would be difficult to pull off at this point.