Observing my kids at school

When my work schedule prevents me from being home with the kids at night, I sometimes go over to their school the next day to remind them they have a dad. I did that yesterday. The three youngest had been with their mother in New Mexico during Spring Break, and I had not seen them in a week.

Sara seemed the most comfortable of the three in the school setting. She loves the interaction with other children and loves her teacher. In fact, she told me she wants to have the same teacher next year. I told her not to expect that, because she will be moving on to the second grade, while her teacher would likely still be teaching firstgraders.

Sara is far and away the tallest, and probably also the strongest child in her class. We think her biological father might have been either an NBA or NFL player! At recess she showed me how she could swing to the top of the swing set with no one pushing her. After recess I saw her doing a good job of following directions in the academic setting.

The other thing that Sara did yesterday was precious to me. She told me that when she was in New Mexico with her mother, she still felt I was with her. "I remembered the things you have taught me, and thought about you." Folks, you don't get to hear sweeter words than that very often. My thoughts also went back to the whole adoption process, and I was reminded that if child protection authorities had not intervened, she would be being prostituted by her biological mother right now.

As we were walking in from recess, a little girl from another class came up to Sara and asked her if she used a comb on her hair. Sara kindly responded by telling her about how her "Sister Locks" are done. Sara then went into her classroom, and I continued walking down the hall next to the other girl. She asked me where Sara is from. I said, "Denver." She said, "Oh, I wondered if she was from Africa." I knew that was what the little girl was wondering. I wonder how it feels to Sara to be recognized as different all the time. She seems to be getting more and more comfortable with it, but still, I am sure there are times when she wishes she was not.

Jon's teacher was reading to the class from a book about the Lewis and Clark Expedition. I took a seat in the front of the room, and could see the faces of all the children. As usual, they were giving this fine teacher rapt attention. I did notice, though, that Jon's eyes were constantly blinking, and his lips were frequently massaging each other. Was he feeling some sad emotions? He has always been fidgety. I wondered what he was thinking. I am looking forward to spending time with him this week as he celebrates his eleventh birthday. After I finish writing this post, I plan to go to Craigs List to see if anyone is selling tickets to the sold out opening day of Major League Baseball in Denver.

When I went into Greg's room, I almost did not see him. He was in the far corner of the room at a big table, sitting in an adult chair. The teacher was up front at the blackboard, and the class had just watched a video on animals of the Rocky Mountains. The class was taking notes on each animal. I went back and stood behind Greg. He turned to me and said, "Dad, I am soooo bored!" I asked him why he was sitting in that comfortable adult chair. He said, "because I am awesome!" Then, he admitted it was because he had been late for class, and there were no other seats. Greg was tapping on the desk in a really good rhythm with both hands. Since he was not near other children, it was not bothering anyone. I made a mental note to get him a set of drums for his birthday in July.