BOWL'd over!

Okay, first day of Montessori and I am very confused. Confused because the director says last Friday that I am to make a sudden, rapid exit and I am lingering for 20 minutes. Confused because there is actually no director to be found when I arrive. Confused because regardless of how many times I explain the absence of director to the teachers, they tell me she is in the office. Confused because the two orbs in front of my skull are technically working and I am functionally equipped to tell if a human is present in an 8 by 10 room. Nonetheless, not one but two teachers walk to the office to confirm my accounts. Frustrated that my son has been told how "FUN!" and "EXCITING!" this new school is going to be, but all it turns out to be at the time is "ANNOYING!" and "BORING!". Finally, the director shows up on the phone, obviously preoccupied, and tells me to "Hang out with Gabriel. He is clearly not ready for you to go." (I think, I can do the math on who is not prepared to start school today!)

Okay, yeah. Whatever. I don't mind staying with my son and getting a sneak peek at the inner workings of a Montessori. But let's not mistake my son's anxiety for your lack of organization.

I am left in circle time with too many sleepy, numb children to count. I guess a teacher didn't show up, Oh...what's that? Oh, great. Gabriel's teacher is MIA. Swell. The attending teacher isn't much help for their dulled condition. We "criss-cross-applesauce" our way through "Chicka-chicka-ABC" and get a refresher course in the news that the bell means "ZIP IT and LOCK IT" while you sit with your hands on your head. Which wouldn't be altogether PC back in my old stompin' grounds. Could this be another "sanctuary", I wonder?

Then each child gets a mat/tray and chooses their "work". For those of you in my shoes only days ago, here are some Montessori fundamentals: "work" means play, or tasks, based on some particular skill-development. There are sets of tools (or toys, to the untrained eye) for the purpose of development. And all children are meant to focus on their "work" in a neat, clean, disciplined environment.

So, Gabriel picks a tray with a teapot, two teacups, two saucers, and two spoons. And the teacher fills the teacup with water, which delights him--simply because I would never allow him to have a container of water outside the tub or without a lid and a straw. He sits and plays for about five minutes. I hold Phoebe, wrestle Phoebe, sing to Phoebe and wonder...Where the hell is the director? And my speedy exit? But it is all good, because as I said before, I actually like to be with Gabriel.

Okay, here is the magic moment. (Not that I think it would be lost on you.) Gabriel gets up after five whole minutes of pouring and stirring and pouring again, and decides he needs a bowl. He picks one up off of a tray and bring it to his "work" tray. Only moments later the teacher sees the bowl, picks it up and says "Oh, no. THIS work does not go with THIS work." Then proceeds to take the bowl away. I don't think I can say this any more clearly than "What the F---K!" I can hardly process the moment when...

Next thing I know, there is the director. She says "Okay, he is busy. Time for you to leave." She is ushering me out of the door, hand on my elbow. And telling me she is going to "catch" Gabriel, who sees me that very instant, on my way out. I tell him over her shoulder, that I have to go now, but I will be back. She is still shuffling me out, while I am yelling..."I'll be back to get you soon. I love you!" And then she turns back to him and scoops him up in her arms, so the last thing I see are two outstretched arms and tears streaking down cheeks. Hmmm. That went well, don't you think? (note: We both share an irrational distain of being touched/handled by strangers.)

Now, I don't mind crying during a transition time, it is all part of growing up. And, I don't even mind leaving them when they want you to stay, you can't always get what you want. But, I think "sneaking out" is cowardly and disrespectful and wrong. I can't think of a time, place, or person that doesn't deserve a little explanation or at a minimum "goodbye". There is a reason we all dread "Dear John", but don't we dread a sudden evaporation of spirit even more? Well, that sort of set me off and I would go on and on about it, if it weren't for the THIS work/THAT work-thing which has me in a tizzy.

Can someone explain to me why can't he have the bowl?

Okay, I must change subject here lest I become enraged. How about food? Yes, food. Last night, I was so intent on being decrepit that I forgot to tell you about dinner. I made Chicken and fresh Broccoli Salad. The salad with incredible with nuts, seeds, cranberries, bacon bits, etc. I can say that, because all I did was poach the chicken. I got the Broccoli Salad kit from Costco. What a shocker? Montessori has me tied in knots, and premade food from Costco has me singing it's praises...is it any wonder I am all turned around?

And for those of you keeping score...it's boxes 1, micki 0.