Where did summer break go? The kids are trudging back to school around here already. In case you are tempted to tsk-tsk sympathetically and pity them for being back in school in August, don’t: they more than make up for it with a ridiculously-long Christmas break. Not that I’m bitter or anything about only having a few measly days off for the holidays way, way back when I was a kid.
Something else we didn’t have when I was in school was orientation before school started. We got our teacher’s name from the newspaper and just showed up the first day.
Gary and I trekked to Hickville to meet the kids’ teachers and make sure the kids knew where to go the first day. Well, at least that’s why we were there. Crow’s witless contribution to first-day-of-school preparations included beaming fatuously at Dove in her classroom and cooing delightedly as she jabbed a finger toward the desks, practically jumping up and down, “Oooh, you’re across from your boy-crush!” Yes, that’s what we want Dove to focus on, not her education or learning or anything silly and pointless like that.
Ever since the girls were in pre-school, Crow and her inbred family have pushed the crush/boyfriend thing onto them like they were mail-order brides. The only aspirations and ambitions the girls are supposed to have, apparently, are attracting boys, giggling about boys, and getting married as soon as humanly possible. This plan resulted in Crow failing miserably in two marriages and being stuck in an entry-level job as she’s pushing 50, but I don’t want to dampen the zealous enthusiasm for this incredible life plan for the girls, now do I?
Actually, yes I do. The concept of any of the kids looking to Crow or her family as role models for life is terrifying. Lying, deceit, manipulation, maniacal denial about their laundry list of mental issues…that’s all the kids will find in that bag of crazy. They live with it every day, though, and I’m not quite sure they don’t just accept it as normal, which is scary.
Gary made a point of reminding Dove that she is at school to learn, not worry about which boy is sitting near her. She nodded, but I’m not sure she understands the mixed messages that come from Crow’s whacked-out sideline vs. ours. I hope what we say sinks in. Having only every other weekend to scrape out the sludgy garbage that Crow pours into their heads, and replace it with anything valuable and rational, feels impossible, but we will certainly keep trying.