Procrastination...and preschool
When you have 40 progress reports to write and a new unit that begins tomorrow morning to prepare from scratch, and you feel too tired to do either, why not blog?
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When she discovered one afternoon that the cookies she'd left in the car that morning had been eaten, she puzzled over what animal could have done it. (Said animal drove with a poker face.) "Raccoon! No, they're nocturnal, which means they sleep during the day and only come out at night. So they didn't do it. But they do have little thumbs, so they could have opened the package."
Last Friday a musician (or scientist? or both?) visited school, because we got a surprisingly lucid description of sound waves in the car on the way home. "I think those waves are, like, in the air."
Later in the evening she came strolling into the kitchen. "Mom, how has music changed over the years?"
Umm, I suggested, it is often recorded now?
She shook her head no. "The rhythm." How has rhythm changed? I asked. But that much she couldn't explain without the special guest's instrument in hand.
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There are days when stunning reminders of the wealth around us temporarily immobilize me. Alice's preschool is having a parent auction as a school fundraiser. Donated items include lunch for 4 with former Pennsylvania Governor Ed Rendell, batting practice for 8 with Raul Ibanez of the Phillies, and seats with the NBC of CEO for a taping of Saturday Night Live, after which there's a private meet & greet with the cast. At the low end are the bottles in the Wall of Wine, each guaranteed to retail for at least $50.
We can't manage tickets to this event, of course. I am diligently cutting out Box Tops for Education from our Cheerios and Kleenex and sending them in to do our part.
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For its 50th anniversary this year, the preschool encouraged teachers and staff to dream big about their greatest wishes for the school. They made a video of the teachers' answers and shared it. One of the first suggestions: a kindergarten class trip to Paris for cultural study.
We have trouble enough managing trips to the bathroom. In our own apartment.
Is anyone out there familiar with any pockets in American society quite like this??


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