Five keys for surviving kindergarten
A Parent's Guide
It was 10am on a mid-summer weekday. 300 eager parents with their kids, each a prodigy, at kindergarten orientation. And me.
The school principal approaches the mic. “Ladies and gentleman, welcome to our community. We look forward to having your children for the next five years.” And so on. “Are there any questions?” 299 hands shoot up.
“When do Mandarin lessons start?”
“How many kids from your school go to Harvard?”
“What opportunities do you offer for absolute stud MLS-bound soccer players like my Tommy?”
It’s so cute.
I only became a dad in 2009. It wasn’t that long ago, but I think I’ve learned a few things. And this being our fifth time through kindergarten, I feel duty-bound to share the things that I wish someone had shared with me.
1. Rely on large numbers. Our school was built in 1958. It’s been here for 65 years. I estimate 22,750 kids have moved through the place. You could literally do nothing. And I mean nothing. And number 22,751 (your Tommy) will still learn to add, subtract, and multiply. Division will be up to you, so brush up.
2. Beware of the bus. It’s a jungle and you can’t protect them from what happens there. Almost everything you won’t like about your child will have been transmitted to them on that giant yellow den of iniquity. It’s probably why the parent-chauffeur line is 200 deep everyday at 9am and 3pm.
3. The bus is still worth it. Because, hey, free ride! You’re not an Uber driver. Don’t be a sucker. Unless you are actually an Uber driver and then you’re an even bigger sucker because you could be earning a living rather than sitting in that line. Outsource the ride.
4. The birthday present. You’re about to be invited to a lot of birthday parties. Say no to most of them. But when you occasionally say yes, here’s how you handle them. Look for the mailbox with the balloon on it, slow down, open the door. As soon as the kid makes a break for the party, close the door and accelerate. This weird new thing happened around 2007 where parents actually stay for the party! Do not go in. Do not walk up to the door, ‘just to say hello.’ Just drive. It’s a gift.
5. Be a helicopter parent. I hate the term helicopter parent because we use it as a metaphor for what NOT to do. Think about it – a helicopter floats at 10,000 feet above traffic and watches. It doesn’t land on the highway and make the ’98 Honda Civic move faster. It watches. And occasionally maybe it radios to the ground when there’s a real problem. Tommy’s mediocre report card? The bloody nose he deserved and got? The curse word he learned on the bus? Not anyone else’s problem. Don’t land the helicopter. Hover high above and wait for the 27-car pileup. And there’s no such thing in kindergarten. Do not land the chopper until, at soonest, middle school. Enjoy the flight, we’ll talk about the landing another day.
Ok, friends, fifth time through kindergarten and that’s all I’ve got.