“So, how are you this morning?”
I paused. “Excited,” I answered.
We were sitting across from each other at a small table, in the very same room where my son had been screened for early kindergarten admittance exactly one year before. This time, though, I was submitting Connor’s kindergarten registration forms.
The table where Connor had sat during his screening was now filled with stacks of paperwork. I recognized pieces of the registration packet I’d filled out, yanked from their staples and stacked in piles topped with the names of the district’s elementary schools.
How analog, I thought. Someone has to go through all these papers later and enter the information into the school’s database.
The woman asked for Connor’s registration packet, medical information, proof of residency (i.e. utility bill), birth certificate, and my photo ID, checking off each on a half-sheet checklist — and we were done.
She gave me a checksheet of all the school supplies Connor will need for kindergarten, with important dates on the reverse. I asked the few questions I had (when can I sign Connor up for Latchkey, and when will I know his bus schedule), got my answers (for Latchkey, ask the Latchkey people; for the bus, at the Open House in August), and I was on my way.
I get the impression that a lot of this school stuff will be us flying by the seat of our pants and trying to be as proactive and involved as possible. It’s only March — we have five months until school starts — but it’s a totally new thing for all of us, and we want to be as prepared as we can. We like our routines, and this is going to be the biggest upheaval in our routine since Connor starting daycare back in the day.
It’s exciting.
