Scooter Soprano Strikes Back!

From the looks of the title it's hard to figure out whether I'll be discussing "The Muppets," "Mafia," or yet another sequel in the Star Wars trilogy. The truth is...none of the above.

If you're an avid reader you already know I've nicknamed my younger son Scooter because of his need for movement...constant movement that is. Try holding a baby that refuses to stop wiggling. Needless to say there were a couple of close calls.

So it was the first day of school for Scooter today. I know you're all anxiously awaiting this story.

Let's just say things went so smoothly that a few times I actually had to take a good look at my kid and ask: "Are you mine?"

So we're standing there in the courtyard behind the school when Scooter catches wind of a child who is having a breakdown. Let me add that Scooter was beginning Pre-K, and for most kids this is the first time they are away from their parents.

With that said, the child having the breakdown was now turning a shade of red that only Crayola could have perfected. Obvious sweat circles were forming under his mother's pits, while his father looked cool as a cucumber (he was obviously returning to work after this, and mom would be the one to receive the call that told her her child just bolted out the fire escape).

The teacher made a calm announcement to give hugs and kisses. Scooter did well again. As the line began to move, I caught that look in his eye. I knew what it meant, but I kept smiling and waving and blowing kisses........TOO LATE!

He ran out of line straight for me. You would think that 45lbs. isn't a lot of weight until it hits you straight in the gut. I felt like a bowling pin after a strike. How I prayed for a gutter.

As if that power play wasn't enough, you can imagine what was next. Being Scooter's Mom I was well aware that my child could scream. Maybe it was the fact that the bell had already rung and there was complete silence (except for Scooter), or maybe in my mind I was waiting for the "cool as a cucumber Dad" to help even the score. Suddenly I inherited Breakdown Mom's sweat circles.

As my child hung on to my body for dear life singing "Mommy" in Soprano, I couldn't help but feel alone. I was surrounded by people, yet none of them wanted anything to do with me. Their faces had the typical "Please don't let my kid catch what your kid has," written all over them.

As the principal appeared, I did my best at screaming for help without saying a word. She was a pro. She wrangled both Scooter and Breakdown Kid in with the style of a rodeo cowgirl. She quietly mouthed the words: "Go now."

I went straight to the bar....just kidding. I still had to drop off Potter first.

Then I went to the bar. Gotcha again! I went to Target. Obviously to buy deodorant.

Like any concerned mother, I called the school once I got home. I kept having visions that My child and Breakdown Kid would conspire to create some fancy escape plan out of blocks and Play doe. In a couple of years we would be sitting on a couch next to Dr. Phil talking coping strategies for the High School Drop Off.

Turns out, Scooter had a great day. At least that was the words that came from his mouth when I picked him up just three hours later. It was kind of robotic. So I have my own thoughts about whether or not he was trained....or hypnotized?!?!

So, the rest of the day was easy. Thank goodness. Tomorrow, the school request that all children are dropped off at the car line. They do not want the parents in the playground. They say it's an easier transition for the children if we leave right away. I agree.

I've already requested there be some help to pry Scooter from the minivan tomorrow. Honestly, what could go wrong? I have a feeling I may end up at Target again.

Our Last Day Together

Dear Potter and Scooter:

As you sleep, I anxiously await spending time with both of you today. See, tomorrow, you will both be off to your first day of school. While some mother's celebrate as if it's the new New Years Celebration; I quietly cry a tear.

Potter. You have surprised us all. You arrived into the world a little over 3 lbs. Today, your 42 lb. stature may still be a little small for a six year old, but you "give it hell everyday." I know you're a little confused as to where you fit this year. "Am I a First Grader, or am I repeating Kindergarten, you ask?"

Luckily, your school district has been wonderful. Grade Levels are just numbers Potter. Do what you've always done. "Give it Hell!"

Scooter. You have us all anxious about how exactly you will handle school. At only four years old, you've learned to verbalize your opinions loudly. You are compassionate, and will make a good friend. You will learn patience in time. But for now there are no limits to your ability. You have already proven that to Mommy.

I wish I could send you both to the same school this year, but things don't always work out as planned. I guess it is all meant to be. This will give me a little extra time in the morning with you since I will be your official school bus.

So what's the plan boys? How should we spend the last day of summer? Hide and seek? Ride bikes? Make wishes as we throw coins into a fountain?

I say we do it all!

School Photo Saga

I guess it's been about 2 weeks since I received the infamous school photo information packet in Potter's book bag. I'm unsure if it works the same way at everyone's school, but basically this is how it's done.

We were told in a very kind letter that we are obligated to purchase a picture package from ABC Company on a certain date. We are to circle the package we choose, and return the envelope on picture day with a check. In large bold writing it says (I kid you not) "We Prefer Cash." Our children are told they MUST wear their uniforms (Catholic School), and to make sure they are properly groomed since the photographer is not allowed to touch the children.

It's at this point that I'm beginning to wonder if the photo will be used for America's Most Wanted. What has our world come to when on a cold windy picture day a photographer can not help a child fix their hair so that they look half decent?

You can probably guess where this story is going by now, but just in case, let me say I decided to use gel in Potter's hair that day for extra help with those curls that sometimes pop up during 60 mile winds. I was pleased with how nice my son looked when he left that morning for school, and I felt confident that his school picture would turn out just fine.

Hold that thought. Who am I kidding? This is The Adventures of Mommy Maestro. Why on God's green earth would you expect this story to have a normal ending?

So as the story goes I received those beautiful pictures yesterday. Well, I use the word beautiful because the picture of course was of my son, or at least I think it was. Somewhere between the word cheese and the click of a flash something so odd happened to my child's face. It was the look of confusion, happiness, boredom, and silliness all wrapped into one.

Now I remember back in the day when a child would reveal such a face, a photographer may not actually know until the film was developed. But in the digital age, these things just don't happen. We take a picture, we like it, it goes on our memory card. We don't like it; it gets deleted and forgotten forever. Let's just say that this was one of those pictures that may have been better forgotten.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So I made the best of things and I laughed until there were tears. I really can't place blame when I don't know who to blame. Sure, I could send these pictures back. I still have the option. I could probably just demand my money if I returned the packet, but for some reason, I think I'll keep it. Sure, it's $17.00 that I'll never get back, but it's also a laugh that I may not have had; and a memory I'll treasure forever.