Now things are getting interesting

So you know how Booper has started at his new pre-K? You don't? Oh. Go ahead and read back a few posts and you'll see it. Don't worry. I'll wait.

Okay, all caught up? Let's move on then. The summer is a strange time to start a new school because there are a handful of new kids from around the city, along with a smattering of veterans who are poised to start kindergarten in a few weeks. I have been getting to know the names and faces of his new classmates, cuz I'm funny like that. A couple weeks ago, during pick-up, I met one of his new pals and the new pal's Dad. I couldn't shake the feeling that Dad looked familiar, and he definitely oozed charisma. Since I pride myself on being someone who never forgets a face, I was determined to get to the bottom of it.

I have since figured it out. Dad is a sort-of celebrity around these parts. There are plenty of boring reasons why he is well-known, but the memorable reason is that he was part of a big political scandal in the city last year. Without "outing" them totally, I think it's safe to say that his wife (who is GORGEOUS) was having an affair with an uber-famous person, who also happened to be the Dad's friend. This bombshell came to light because the Mom was in rehab and had to make amends for all her transgressions, which involved confessing the affair.

At the time that I heard this story, I was as fascinated as the next person by the salacious, Shakespearean drama. Now that I have met their son, however, the whole thing seems sad and confusing. I saw Mom dropping off the son at school the other day, and she looked harried, frazzled, and overwhelmed, just like most of us. No sign of the picture-perfect movie star good looks that were featured in the news last year. Just a mom, trying to see her son off at school. Difference is, she is struggling with a substance abuse problem that is a matter of public record. For all I know, lots of the other parents have addiction issues, but they get to keep theirs secret. And believe me, there are days when I would certainly give serious consideration to a dry martini and a couple lines. It was a fairly standard means of escape for me to fantasize about the single life, once I found myself fully immersed in marriage and motherhood. Not that I really wanted it back, just that I enjoyed the mental vacation that those fantasies provided.

So while it's easy to get all judgy-wudgy on her, I will use my blog forum to be the first to say, "Sister, I feel you."

Breaking Stuff

I had a dream last night that I was hanging out with Brad Pitt, Angelina, George Clooney, and their pals. I said something sycophantic and dumb, then worried that they thought I was a loser. When I woke up to the sensation of Booper climbing on top of me to snuggle, I felt a momentary sense of relief, thinking that my reputation with them was still clean. Wow! What a break! Because you know I am going to be meeting them any day now.

Not much else is new with us. The most recent round of waiting pool list has been run, and still no spot for Booper in Korean Immersion. Our final shot will come on September 8th, when they run the "10-day count." Then it's do or die time. Assuming that doesn't pan out, we will be entering the fray again come September, this time with private schools in the mix. We don't really want a private school--nor can we afford it, especially with the Caboose set to start one year after Booper--but I feel that I can leave no stone unturned. Once I'm in the thick of this, I will institute a Whine Alert level so you can avoid any posts that are really nothing more than one long kvetch-a-thon.

Meanwhile, Booper is blossoming in his pre-K and we have not heard hide nor hair of Veruca. She is so last week. He has made a passel of new friends and she is still moping in the corner, sucking her thumb. I am planning Booper's birthday party, and I asked him if he would like to invite her, to which he replied, "definitely not." Okay, then. I noticed that when I picked him up from school the other day, a female classmate shouted, "Booper! I love you!" as we were packing up. What can I tell you? The kid takes after me.

You know what else is great? Halfmama is coming to visit us this weekend. With the twins. And G. Aren't you jealous?

Now...it's personal

This past weekend, Booper had his first "soccer practice" with his new team in the local micro soccer league. He was anticipating it greatly. Turns out, Veruca is also on the team, though this did not keep Booper from enjoying himself greatly. The coach is a mom we know well, assisted by her husband. They are parents to two gorgeous Hapa girls that Booper knows from preschool. The younger one is a rascal, full of energy and spirit. She has, however, developed the unfortunate habit of calling kids "dooshy." Say it out loud. Not good. Where she got this, I don't know, but we are putting the serious kabosh on it at our house. Veruca's Dad (VD) is also an assistant coach. Booper likes him a lot (??) and I noticed him spontaneously hug VD on more than one occasion.

That was all well and good until VD crossed the line. As we were packing up to go, Booper revealed that we were heading home to watch the Yankees vs. Red Sox on the TiVo. VD, who is a native Californian, told Booper that he should absolutely root for the Sox. Clearly, the man does not have an allegiance to the Sox, he just wants to annoy me. He was filling my son with all kinds of crazy ideas, such that, when we returned home, Booper was cheering for the Sox for the first 3 innings. He kept saying to me, "Mom...is it okay for me to cheer for the Sox? I can choose any team I want, right? The Giants aren't playing, so I am cheering for the Red Sox."

I know, I know. He can pick his own team, if he decides he really likes a team. Heck, my Dad was a Dodgers fan. Brooklyn Dodgers. But they moved away and broke his heart, so he was forced to choose another home team for us, and he picked the Yankees. He sometimes held his nose to do it, but he did it just the same. That's how baseball works. It's inherited. So I fully expect him to like the Giants, being an SF kid and all. I can work with that. But I absolutely will not tolerate this indiscriminate cheering for the Red Sox. While you're living in my house--the house that Ruth built--you will follow my rules.

I can't tell you how disturbing it was to watch my son's gorgeous, pure lips form the words, "Go Sox!" I imagine this is how it will feel the first time I hear him use the F word (and I don't mean fart.) I had to walk away. This may sound crazy to those of you who do not have a passion for any sports team in particular, but it was absolutely driving me ape shit. So much so, that I turned off the game and watched it after the boys were in bed. (The Yankees won, heh heh heh.) Now VD is on my list. It's bad enough that you are raising an ill-mannered and snotty little princess, but don't fuck with my family traditions. We are New York baseball fans in my house. And while my husband and I may forever disagree on the relative merits of the Mets or the Yankees, there is one thing upon which we always agree: We hate the Red Sox. Sometimes, just to keep in shape, we hate the Celtics and the Patriots, too.

In an effort to expel the bad taste of that experience, we are showcasing the Caboose and his new Karaoke machine. This was a gift from his Harabuji. It's pretty popular with all of us, though. Last night, I was throwing a little BP in the yard with the boys, and Daddy used it to "announce" the batters as we approached the plate.

http://www.youtube.com/v/w1Jaw9cqBBU

Justice

Based on the comments from my previous post, it sounds like a lot of you have experience with this particular breed of girl: The Veruca. I have been learning a lot these past few weeks about this sub-species, and I am proud to report that sometimes karmic justice is swift.

Booper, Veruca, and another little girl from their class have been moved up to the Pre-K program along with a handful of other kids from campuses around the city. In September, a few more of their classmates will make the switch. Booper was anticipating the move greatly and has taken to it exceedingly well. This school, for one thing, has a rooftop playground, which they get to use twice a day. It is also larger with more areas to explore. A couple days before starting, he told me, "I am looking forward to going to the XXXX class because I know I'm going to make new friends there, and my new friends won't tease me." Amen to that.

And boy, was he right! He has made a passel of new friends and left Veruca in his dust. I have heard from her parents that she is not doing so well with the transition. For one thing, she still sucks her thumb, and in this class there is a rule that one must wash hands after sucking your thumb. (I imagine the idea is to make it so inconvenient that eventually the behavior is extinguished.) For another, she is now in a class with a lot of kids who don't know her from a hole in the ground, and they are not interested in listening to her crap. Consequently, she is not the Queen B she once was. oh boo hoo hoo.

Of course, I know it could be worse. A dear friend put her son in summer camp until he starts kindergarten this fall (in a Japanese bilingual program at another public school.) Her son was shoved into a locker by another boy--one he has known for years--and was left there to suffer. He was terrified, of course, and eventually another child fetched a counselor and he was freed. These are 5 year old boys, mind you. Not teenagers. When the camp director approached the shover's parents to discuss the matter, they deflected all responsibility and made it seem that my friend's son had brought it upon himself. Sheesh. Kindergarten is going to be rough for that kid if this is how he's behaving now.

In other exciting news, Booper has developed a taste for salad. Any kind of leafy greens will do, with celery, and some dressing. Yesterday I gave him a bowl of baby spinach and he gobbled it up. I thought I died and went to heaven. Heaven being the place where the Caboose is lying in that header photo up top.

The Bitch is Back

While Veruca has eased off when it comes to teasing Booper (after I let her know one morning that I did not approve of her behavior, nor did I appreciate her lying about it when we all heard what she said,) I did see that she reduced another girl (another member of the Princess Posse) to tears this morning after slinging some cruel insults her way. After being reprimanded, little Veruca sat teary-eyed, sucking her thumb for all it's worth. Oh boo hoo.

What is noteworthy about all this is that Booper, Veruca, and a couple other members of the Princess Posse will be transitioning together to pre-K next week. They tour the new school this week, then next week make the switch for real. Booper is excited to "graduate" to this new classroom (at a different location) and I am looking forward to seeing a dilution in this toxic little dynamic. Booper knows several kids in this class already, so my hope is that he will be welcomed warmly and find himself with a bevy of other playmates at school.

We remain on the waiting list--excuse me, "in the waiting pool," for a spot in Korean Immersion. And we will stay there until the fat lady sings. So this could mean a sudden change at the last possible moment, but we are prepared to seize the chance, should it present itself.

Meanwhile, I am developing quite a little grudge toward Veruca. How does a 41-year-old woman come to find herself disliking a 4-year-old girl? Have any of you wrestled with this before? Her parents seem like cordial--if somewhat clueless--people who are bumbling through child rearing. They have been told about this problem, but are frankly ill-equipped to handle it. They try their "full court press" to no avail. Will she ever get put in her place? Or will this reign of terror continue? I am just so grateful that we are not going to know her during her teenage years.

While I'm on the subject, let me share this story with you all, because I think you'll really appreciate it. Veruca is often babysat by one of the teachers at the school. This teacher, we'll call her Kim, is a Korean adoptee, raised in Iowa by a Caucasian family. She is kind of a strange bird, lives alone, very quiet, wears a lot of Disney T-shirts, but altogether sweet with the children. She is utterly devoted to Veruca and her family, babysitting for them at least once per week. I was talking with Veruca's mom about this unique bond the other day, and she said to me, "I just hope that [Kim] is out of our lives before [Veruca] figures out that she's not cool, and just rejects her."

WT Flying F is that? Is this what you are accepting from your kids? That it's okay to "reject" loving, caring adults simply because they "aren't cool?"

We have one more year with this family in the pre-K, and then I'm cutting them off. Quick fade and we're done. Our younger son will then move up to pre-K, and their younger daughter will remain in the same school, so we will not cross paths. I don't have the cajones to just "break up" with them. I have never been good at breaking up. Especially with friends or acquaintances. Have you had to do it? How did you manage?

We are trying to embrace this as the "learning experience" that it is, and I know there will be other problematic schoolmates in the future, but I can't suppress the urge to just cut and run.

Oh, and that's the Caboose and myself at Lake Tahoe a few weeks ago.

The Princess Posse

Booper is quite the Romeo at preschool. There are a few girls who have targeted him for matrimony and Prince duty. I know these girls are into the Princess thing (Ariel, Belle, etc.), so I chalked this up to the Disney effect. Plus Booper is a gentle soul with a beautiful face, so what's not to love? Booper didn't seem bothered by it, so I let it ride, even when I arrived at school to see these girls draped all over him, hugging and kissing him. Once I even saw their ringleader standing there with her hand on his ass. I am not kidding. (and yes, we had a parent/teacher conversation about that last one.)

In the last few weeks, though some of these girls have turned on him and started teasing him about whatever they could find. The ringleader, Veruca Salt here, is rather a spoiled brat, so I think she was annoyed at Booper for not always giving in to her demands and requests. The Boop is a sensitive guy, though, so he just got his feelings hurt and even dissolved in tears in my lap one afternoon after a particularly brutal session.

Come to find out that this bunch of girls has also been picking on another of Booper's classmates, a little girl we love, who I will call Sophia. When Sophia first came to school, one of the Princess Posse was pinching her every day and leaving bruises! That has subsided, but there has been consistent teasing and ostracizing of sweet Sophia. We found this out because last night Booper had a sleepover at Sophia's house, and her parents were sharing their stories with us. In fact, we joked about how Sophia is going to be in deep doo-doo when the Princess Posse finds out that she had Booper all to herself for an entire night.

This morning, I was dropping the Caboose off at school and I ran into the Princess Posse. Veruca asked me, "Where's Booper?"

I said, "He slept over at Sophia's last night, and her Daddy is dropping him off later."
Veruca: "What?" (crestfallen look on face.)
Me: "He slept over at Sophia's house last night and her father is going to drop them off in a little while."
V: "Really?" (stricken look on face.)
Me: "Yup. Really."

I am so petty, but I have to admit that I took great satisfaction in delivering this piece of news to Veruca. Mostly because she has been giving Booper such a hard time lately with the teasing and, on his behalf, I wanted to exact some small measure of revenge. But also because of what they have been doing to Sophia. It is small of me, I know. But there it is. I fully expect to receive a sleepover invitation from Veruca's parents round about 8 p.m. tonight, a.k.a. first available opportunity. Not because they want Booper to sleep over, but because they want to give Veruca what she wants. Well, Booper is nobody's Wonka Bar, so we are prepared to gently turn them down. Can you believe we are dealing with this already?

Ennui

Wow, I am bored. And I realize I have not posted to this blog in too long, so excuse me while I brain barf a series of unrelated, and unimportant, thoughts.

* Booper has a sleepover planned for this weekend. No big deal, right? But this time he was invited to sleep over at a girl's house. A sweet, adorable girl that we love. And we love her parents. I asked Booper if he was okay with the idea and received an enthusiastic yes! So we are going to their house for Korean food, then Booper stays over and we go home. Does this seem weird to anyone else? Part of me thinks, "Hey...I didn't have boys sleep over when I was a kid." But another part of me thinks, "Hey...they are Korean. So that makes it okay!" Reminds me of the time that my father-in-law left my son with some random Korean people at the zoo while he went to the bathroom. I know he figured that, if they're Korean, they're okay.

* I think Angelina Jolie is gorgeous and has never looked better.

* I wonder why all the women on Survivor have shaved armpits and no bikini line. Even if they waxed right before it started, by day 30 they would have some strays. So what gives?

* One of the kids in Booper's preschool class hit me yesterday on the ass. Without really thinking, I wheeled around and said, "XXX, that is not okay! I do not play with boys who hit!" And then I walked away. He is the *problem* boy at school, and Booper often tells me that he "gets his choices made for him" because of his behavior issues. Poor little thing is just confused. He has two mommies and a daddy and none of them live together (or within 20 miles of each other) and he doesn't know which end is up. But hitting is just not okay. This boy goes to a different parent's house every night--unless one of them is out of town--and I can't imagine what this is like. Different clothes, different toys, different rules. I feel for ya, kid, but keep your mitts off the tush.

It is really hot here today. It's never hot here. This is one of the reasons I love San Francisco. Never too hot. Never too cold. Always just right, Goldilocks. As a result, we do not have air conditioning at home or at work. So here I sit, schvitzing.