The things they learn

The twins have been in school for a little over a month. The morning histrionics have died down to a minimum; on a good day there is none. On a bad day, there’s a bit of crying, some clinging and nuzzling aimed at inducing emotional guilt on my part. But generally they are happy.
They cause a ruckus in class, Jordan being the rabble rouser and Evan being the class clown, making funny faces at his classmates while the teachers are trying to lead them in circle time. Packrat and I both think it’s hilarious now. Probably not so much later on when we keep getting called to school. A dear friend who used to be a primary school teacher once asked me that if I got called in to school because my kid hadn’t done his homework, what would I do. I couldn’t answer that but I’d imagine, if I got called into school because they were asserting their independence and being generally harmless, I’d find myself hard-pressed to keep a straight and suitably stern face.

Anyway, it is clear that it is money well spent. Every Thursday, they cook something exciting in school; there’ve been cakes, pasta, fruit salad and yesterday egg mayo sandwiches. It inspires me to actually cook with them at home too. On top of that, their language and communication skills seem to have improved somewhat as well. However, it has caused much disapproval from their Grandma. I think it has to do with the fact that Evan has learnt to stick out his tongue and does it ever so often.


Grandma is not pleased that we spend close to $1000 a month for her darling grandson to learn bad tricks like stick his tongue out. It coincided with the boy having a cold so the gross but apparently, more acceptable alternative that I laid on the table seemed to mollify her; that the boy had learnt to stick his tongue out because that way, he could get a taste of his mucous. Apparently, that was more palatable to her (as with him) than him learning this from other kids in school. I and only I knew the truth. He was doing that because the teachers taught them a song where they made funny faces and one of the funny faces was to stick the tongue out. Now if Grandma knew that, she would not be amused.

Of course, she will tell anyone who will listen how great the school and what a good idea it is when she sees them feed themselves, take off their shoes and put it on the shoe rack and communicate what they want. I, on the other hand, am pleased as punch when I see their craft displayed in class, when they come home with streaks of paint on their clothes, say new words and sway and jiggle to music.

The not so fun bit is that they pick up germs and bugs. They’re just getting over their colds and half the class has got drippy noses and phlegmy coughs. I wouldn’t be so fussed if they didn’t lose so much weight together with the being sick. And today, Evan had his first accident, where he was leaning against the hinge of a low door and someone slammed it shut and pinching his flesh quite badly. He's got a flying saucer welt on his arm that breaks my heart and will incur the wrath of the Grandma. But my mother reminds me that it’s something, they, as well as I have to go through since she went through it with me.

Ah, the mother’s wisdom. Or the mother’s curse. Depends on which way we’re looking at it.


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