What should surprise you at the zoo?

Okay, so it's been months that I've been kicking this blog around in my head--since I was in St. Louis.

As I do everytime I go back to St. Louis, I went to the zoo practically every other day. And I had a couple things happen on different days that I thought I'd throw out there and see what you think is normal or okay or just plain silly:

Story One: I was walking through the zoo, I believe we just spent an hour in the museum at the children's zoo watching meerkats and naked mole rats and provoking a sleeping bat when I saw a crowd gathering behind the stage where they put on the animal shows. Always interested in what's going on, I joined to crowd and followed their pointing fingers. Here up in the grass were two kittens playing. No, they weren't cheetah or lion kittens. They were domesticated kittens like you can see anytime you drive down a street in anytown USA. Kittens. I shook my head and walked away, and I wanted (but didn't) to say, "We're at the zoo. There are zebras, giraffes, hippos, and you're wasting your time on kittens?"

Story Two: I was at the zoo with my childhood (and adulthood) friend Hilary and her two boys when we decided to stop for lunch. It was kind of a rainy afternoon, so we decided to eat under the covered area near the restaurant. The zoo is always full of squirrels and chipmunks and peacocks and turkeys wandering loose on the sidewalks. I accept them. They're cute. I do occasionally point them out to Bianca. But as we were coming closer to the food area, a rodent darted out in front of us on the sidewalk. This wasn't just any rodent. It was a very large rat. I screamed. A zoo worker was right next to me and I shouted, "There's a rat." Hilary rolled her eyes and said, "We're at the zoo, Jeana." But it was a rat, not in a cage as animals are supposed to be at the zoo. It was running free, growing fat on the food in the food court. Ugh.

Just curious, what are your thoughts? Okay or not--considering our location, the zoo.

It’s back to school (Big sigh)

Yeah, so it shouldn't be back to school already, but we live in Utah where children seem to grow on trees and the schools here are nearly bursting, requiring year-round school. In fact, Bianca's already been in school for over two weeks now.

I shouldn't have any problems. Things worked out exactly as I'd planned. Last year, since Bianca didn't make the cut-off for public school (she turned five in October, instead of by September 1), I found a private school in the area that had a later cut-off date. She went to kindergarten when she was four and despite my concerns, she did great. I then had her tested for a special program in the public school district for first grade that lets the children learn at a faster rate. She got on the waiting list, then got into the class at the beginning of the summer. This was exactly what I'd hoped for.

Not only did I not have to pay tuition for the private school or buy another set of uniform clothes, but the public schools here even pay for all school supplies. The class is small--only 19 kids, which is typically unheard of at Utah schools. So that was another thing I was excited about.

But what I worried about was all the kids in the program being so smart. Bianca is a whole four months younger than any other child in her class. And she was bringing home three to four homework worksheets a night the first week of school. One math worksheet particularly concerned me. I taught Bianca how to subtract (which I don't think they even covered in her kindergarten class) but this worksheet had 17-8 and like problems. I helped her with them, as I always will, and sent them back to school.

A week into school, they had a back-to-school night. All the parents shuffled through the halls into the first-grade classroom, where I heard the teacher say, "Now, I know the worksheets the kids are bringing home seem easy now, but they're just review. They'll get harder soon." That's when I tried my hardest not to be concerned. But I can't help it. I am.

I'm going to sit this out and hopefully things will get better. When I ask Bianca if school is too hard, she says "no, it's fine."

Bianca came home on Monday saying that the little girl who sat next to her is going to a different school now. Are kids dropping out because it's too hard? Should I consider a similar option?

The next night, she had a homework assignment for the parents to do with the kids. It said to pull out twelve beans and an envelope. Take a random number of beans and put them away in the envelope. Let the child see the beans that are left and tell me how many are in the envelope. There was a lot of wailing and gnashing of teeth that night. For when I asked her the questions, Bianca just guessed random numbers. She wasn't even trying to figure it out. I wanted to scream. In fact, I think I did. I then called Eric and told him he had to come home early enough to go over this with Bianca. That had similar results, with a little shouting and I believe I once heard his hand pounding off the dinner table in frustration.

When she got home yesterday, our first priority was to figure out the bean problem. But I had an idea. Instead of beans, I used gummi bears. And instead of an envelope, I used her tummy. We went through it over and over, where she consumed A LOT of gummi bears. But ultimately, it worked and she figured it out. In fact, she said she enjoyed it so much she wanted to do it again tomorrow, which we'll keep doing until she has all numbers that make twelve so rock solid in her brain, she'll never forget them.

I know this is going to take a lot of effort. I worry about the school year. School should, after all, be fun and not stressful--at least for the mom who sends her child off to school all day. No, but for the child too, at least in first grade.

I'm optimistic. We're going to stick this out. Let's hope it's not too hard for me.