Raising Rockstar

This was one of the hardest posts to write. So much information, only so much I can share before people reading it just drop to the ground with a zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz in blog-induced narcolepsy.

So here goes for the umpteenth time:

First day of school. Horribly unfriendly timing of 12.30 noon (which I previously blogged about in PM). A Mummy’s gotta do what a Mummy’s gotta do:

– Wake Rockstar at 6.15 am for once (he’s a late bird like his father – his natural bedtime from birth is “the later the better,” like 11 or 12pm – and he sleeps the absolute minimum for a child his age. Short of slipping him one in his smoothie you’re not going to get him to sleep more than he absolutely has to. Darn.)

– Morning swim in hopes of him napping by 10.30 am so he’s fresh and genial for his first day. It works. He waves to his teacher when he meets her, and carries on an earnest conversation like he’s a model toddler student.

– Warn his new teacher not to “awaken the beast,” by pushing. Rockstar will do almost anything you want him to if you explain why and give him a few extra seconds to decide it’s a good idea; do it for him when he hesitates / make him do it “just because” and he will fight you with everything he’s got. Several bruises on my heart later, he’s got me well trained. I don’t want him to fight learning in the same way by forming a lasting dislike for his new teacher.

– “It’s hard to imagine,” remarks his new teacher. Oh, you have no idea, I want to say. Rockstar has previously refused to sing, dance, play games he usually enjoys, willingly agreeing to any punishment I can dish out simply because he disliked someone or something in the group activity.

He’s also formed a lasting dislike for one or two nurses in the pediatrician’s office, a family member… It’s a lot of work to undo, with limited success.

Cab to Ap Lei Chau (which is the only place I know around the area – thought it was nearby, but cab fare is in the HKD 70s, not counting the HKD 75.50 I already spent sending him to school from home.

– Back at 3.30 pm to pick him up. His teacher wants a word and I realize I’ve forgotten some things for his first day.

– Wanting to redeem myself, I spend the next 2 hours on Rockstar’s 1st Day Homework willingly. It’s about 8 pages of stuff like what he eats/ doesn’t eat, how to distract him if he wigs out, other “special occasions” like another baby in the family, compiling some photos… I’m still revising and adding details up til just before his second class the next day.

– I write a quick apology re my earlier slip-up in Rockstar’s daily diary, the note book each child carries in their backpack which parent and teacher have been reminded repeatedly to read each day, then mention his age. When I meet her at the end of the second day, she’s much easier going.

– My Yahoo has been blocking emails sent by the school, probably because they were relegated to spam. It’s painful, navigating the accusatory “so YOU’RE the one”s of the school admin staff. However Rockstar’s daily diary has come back with about 10 pages of tables and announcements stuck to it, and one of them is the message that today is the last day for a parent briefing.

Parent briefing:

School Principal brings up Serious Traffic Problem: The school’s main entrance opens right onto a very busy road, with no real place to stop the car.

Ok, so I’m not the only one freaked about this. Good to know.

I went thru the whole route by cab (cost: HKD 150 cab fare – another mum mentions she spent HKD 200) before bringing Rockstar. The busy road and lack of place for a cab queue (it takes 10-15 minutes on average to flag a cab on a busy road where vehicles move at what looks like break-neck speed to any mum of a rockstar – there are no schoolzone signs, no speed limits) freaked me a bit.

When I try to cab over to pick Rockstar, the cabbie refuses to wait for me, regardless of how much I want to tip him over and above him keeping the meter running. Very unusual.

“It’s your first day? It’s not that I don’t want your money. Wait, you’ll see why.”

We arrive 10 minutes early. The entire road is already chock-full with waiting cars in a no-waiting zone. When the cabbie stops briefly for me to alight, other passing taxis (who have materialized out of thin air, knowing there is going to be a huge rush of demand in a few minutes) lean heavily on their horns.

HOOOOONKK!!! HONK HONK HONNNKKK!

The cabbie smiles at me, “See? Not that I didn’t want your money”

Back to the Principal talking about Serious Traffic Problem:

“Everyone has been lucky not to get tickets so far. Authorities understand this is a school right on a very busy road so they haven’t been booking anyone as long as it doesn’t cause a real problem. But one day, someone’s car is going to block an official’s motorcade 5 minutes too long and then everyone is getting wheel clamped. So please. Watch your cars.”

Then he goes on:

“With the school buses backed up and the regular bus mum on the last bus in the queue sick, the replacement bus mum decided there was no harm undoing the children’s seatbelts early since they were just waiting their turn to unload the bus. However, the bus was technically still on the road. Some parents saw the children getting up in the bus while it was on the road and this has been brought to our attention.”
Wonderful. I had barely even noticed the buses, let alone that there were unshackled children in them, but the people in the waiting cars walked in and brought it up. Rockstar would have been on the bus if not for the fact he has to board it 90minutes early because we’re the first stop.

(Btw, 20 minutes car ride, which is Rockstar’s commuting time to the kindergarten by Hong Kong standards is “long”. People move homes just so they live near the right school. A home near a desirable international school has very good resale value.)

And on:

“Always pick your child up on time. Because each minute between when the second-last child and the last child is picked up will feel like torture to the last child.” A flutter of understanding passes among the listening parents.

NOW I know why there was such a riot of parents crowding in the lobby waving child collection cards on Rockstar’s first day. And it’s magnified by herd instinct – you want your child to see you’re there waiting for him after school too. It’s not just Billy’s mum that’s here, you’re here too.

And on:

“If you have a grievance and just need to vent, I would you prefer you yell at me (or my vice principal). Don’t spoil the relationship with your child’s teacher, because the teacher will need to deal with your child every day. I won’t.”

Stuff like that was why I liked this guy’s school.

“….. fortunately (some other parent with huge grievance he’s been narrating) didn’t go upstairs (where all the children) are to vent. Don’t expose any of our children to that.”

If this guy were a woman, I would love her shoes. Even if they were back-breaking Loubies.

I previously blogged that being in the “wildly unpopular afternoon session,” I would at least meet relatively more laid-back (read: “less freaky-competitive”) mums and I was right.

5 of us sitting nearest each other strike up conversation and I like everyone I speak to. There;s:

Me and another mum look “Chinese Asian” (but I’m pretty sure the other mum is neither Malaysian nor Singaporean, by her accent)
1 Dutch mum
1 English (I think) mum
1 Indian mum (who used to work at Barclays – we exchange a “YESSS! HOW do you cope with all these AND the job? Did you see the homework?”)

We talk about school applications, homework, our sons (Rockstar is clearly the youngest, and when the other mums collect their boys, clearly also the tiniest haha)

Most mums bemoan the afternoon session because they can’t enroll their kids in any other activities.

One mum mentions the bits of the evaluation process for a top-ranking (in terms of academic results) international school, for youngsters who are mostly 3 ½, that her son who was a little younger hadn’t managed to pass:

How good is the child’s balance? (Her son had to walk on some colored markers)

Does the child reply in full sentences? (We all agree sometimes even we mums don’t)

Then of course there are the debentures (ie you “invest” in the school at zero interest, in essence depositing cash with the school which you can have back when your child leaves the school, hopefully in 5 years or so, with no interest)

Top-school-of-the-whether-child-replies-in-full-sentence’s debenture is HKD 250,000

It’s fairly reasonable, the school debenture for Chinese International School is HKD 2,500,000 and, (if I’m not wrong), Hong Kong International School’s debenture is HKD 500,000

An Aussie mum whose son stops to throw a ball for JD that evening mentions she’s happy to spend more to send her only child to Kellett (British International School), though she doesn’t mention how much. “Oh, and (her neighbor’s) 2 children both go to Chinese International School.” That’s freaking HKD 5,000,000 locked up. If the stock market sells off you could almost wish your kid drops out so you can invest in bottom fishing stocks.

ALMOST, I said.

And so Rockstar and I hope to have survived “our” first days of school.

I’m exhausted.

He’s elated…