First day of school

Yesterday was the first day of school.  This post is going to have swearing and it's going to be long.

It started off fine.  After weeks of trying to get a bus schedule, last Friday we talked to the transportation department (who had never heard from the school about our family) and found out the bus number and time of arrival.  At 7:30 when the bus stopped in front of our house, everyone was dressed and ready.  Eyvind didn't go on the bus because she only had a half day, but she was planning to go home on the bus and was excited to see her brothers off.  Let me give some background on Eyvind's schedule.

We were told that Eyvind's teacher would be sending us a letter with information about a "meet the teacher" day.  After weeks of waiting, we got a letter which said nothing about that day.  We called the office and were told that it was the first day of school and that Eyvind would go from 12:30 to 3 and the parents were to come with their children and drop off all the supplies at that time; this was the "meet the teacher" day.  Clear enough.  Everyone was talking about how it was going to be a "half day."  Cool, right?  I planned to drive her in, drop off her supplies, talk to her teacher, get her settled, and she could take the bus home with her brothers - we had it figured out.  I had even filled out a form that said she would be taking the bus home on the first day of school.  Eyvind was excited (and nervous) about the bus ride home and the boys knew that they needed to look for their sister when they got on the bus.  Unfortunately, I was misinformed.

At 12:30, I took Eyvind to school.  Jesse had a class at 1, so I was going solo to talk to the teacher about why we weren't doing their fucking social media app and to see if this was a person I could trust with my child (there were some egregious typos in the letter she sent home). We arrived on time (okay, slightly early) and were not greeted by the teacher.  I wasn't actually sure who the teacher was.  As we walked into the class, I saw a table with Eyvind's name on it and there was a mother and her little boy right next to her spot.  I sat Eyvind down and started talking with the boy's mother.  She also wasn't sure exactly what was going on but was able to give me a bit of direction.  It wasn't until we were halfway through a worksheet on "finding places in the room" that the teacher made herself properly known to me.  At this point, I told her that we would not be involved in her little social media app, nor did Eyvind have permission to use said app in the class.  I politely inquired if that was going to be a problem for her, the teacher.  She said no and that Eyvind could do something else during that time. Good, that hurdle was over.

A little while later, the parents were taken into the library to have a chat with the teacher while the kids stayed to do crafts with the assistant.  The teacher wanted to go over a folder she had given us, but she had forgotten to bring hers into the library and had to borrow mine.  Now, I realize that I can be pretty rigid with authority figures when it comes to clarity of communication and organization, so I was bothered but still keeping my shit together.  We got through the spiel and went back to the class.

Back in the classroom, Eyvind was finishing up her craft (from the assistant: "She really likes pink and horses, but she insisted on using a Lego Joker sticker too!"  The kid is wearing a skirt with a cephalopod polo, and her choice of decoration surprises you?).  After crafts, the teacher gathered up the kids and parents to give us a tour of the school.  Eyvind seemed pretty comfortable because she went straight to her teacher, grabbed her hand, and started talking.

After the tour, we went back to the class and parents started leaving with their kids.  It turns out, that was it.  Eyvind asked the teacher, "When are you going to teach me?" and was told that they would start school the following day.  Fuck.  Eyvind would not be taking the bus home.  I grabbed Eyvind and booked it up to the middle/high school counseling office and told them that the boys needed to be told that their sister would not be on the bus.  The secretary told me they were between classes and I could just tell them myself.  Done.  And bonus, the boys seemed to be doing okay.  As we were leaving the school, Eyvind fully realized what was going on and started crying because she couldn't take the bus home.  She made me promise that she could take the bus to school in the morning.  Fine, anything to calm her down.

Fast forward to when the boys got home.  At the end of the day, Morley couldn't get his locker open and when he finally did he panicked and forgot his science book with his homework sheet.  Luckily, Dash had the same sheet and I was able to copy it.  Other than that, I just about lost my mind with the 9 page (seriously?!) English syllabus that asked for more supplies that were needed by Friday (the closest fucking Walmart/Target/Office Depot is 45 minutes away!), the technology syllabus that talked about how they were going to learn how to use grammar and spell check and yet had a glaring typo, and every other fucking class syllabus that said the teachers would be communicating with parents via phone apps.  Even if I wanted a fucking smartphone, we couldn't fucking afford it, so those teachers can all just fuck off or communicate with me via email, phone, notes home, or fucking carrier pigeon.

We finally got the kids in bed; I had a whisky and a meltdown.

Overall, the first day of school went well (at least for the kids) - the boys already had friends on our street that they have classes with, they were pre-warned of the Trumpian social studies teacher, and they made it to all their classes on time.  I suppose today was technically Eyvind's first day, and I admit, I tried to talk her into letting me take her to school, but she said no and reminded me that I told her she could take the bus.  I had Jesse call the school office just to make sure she made it to class.  She did.  Now, if all three kids make it home and no one is in tears when they get off the bus this afternoon, maybe I'll be able to have a whisky without a meltdown.