Register, Register, Register For School
April 2007 In and Around Town - Delta

I registered my daughter for kindergarten last month. She’s been preparing for this for a while, doing her kindergarten readiness program at her preschool – reading, writing, doing simple math and coordinating shoes and purses, the latter which is apparently critical to get into an Ivy League school these days.

The things that Sara is learning in preschool to prepare for kindergarten are the things I learned in kindergarten and first grade. All I remember about when I went to preschool, back in the Mesozoic Era, is eating paste.

These days, to enter kindergarten, you not only need a birth certificate (to show that your child actually exists) and immunization records (to show that your child won’t be spreading the Bubonic Plague all over school), you  also need dental records so your child’s smile won’t break the camera during school pictures. (Seriously, there are health reasons for your child to have regular dental visits!)

On registration day, we got to the assessment center, turned in our paperwork, and got more paperwork to fill out. As I was filling out the paperwork, Sara thought it would be fun to see what the kids who were already testing were doing. After we shooed her away from them, she started getting antsy. By the time we were called up for our assessment, she was in full-blown tantrum mode.

I tried to console her, telling her after her test, we’d play on the playground with the other kids.

“No! This place is dumb! Kindergarten is dumb! This is a dumb day!”, Sara ranted.

While I’ve had my share of “dumb days”, I was losing my patience. I had visions of Sara at 17, trying to get into an Ivy League school. Someone sitting in a big cushy leather chair behind a large oak desk explaining to Sara, “No, I’m sorry young lady. While your grades are stellar, our records show that you threw a hissy fit at your kindergarten registration back on 2007. MIT does not consider that exemplary behavior.”

OK, so maybe that scenario was a little far-fetched. But this was obviously not our day to test. So I went back to the registration desk to find out how to reschedule. Then, lo and behold, I turned around, and Sara was sitting at the assessment table with one of the teachers, taking her test like an angel.

I started wondering what transpired in the last 12 seconds, when my friend came over to me and explained that her son, who had just finished his test, had a little chat with Sara. He said that if she finished her test, they could play on the playground. She said, “OK”, and took her test.

I thought I said that to her, and she said it was “dumb”?

In the end, she did great, so I’ll start filling out her application to MIT ASAP. I guess peer pressure, for better or worse, is just something I’ll have to deal with when she starts school.