...And the Genie Was There.

The Maestro started Preshool today.

Last night went to visit the school and see his classroom. He did not want to go. He was sure that he didn’t want to attend school, but he did consent to show it to me. So we went. The Gym was noisy with lots of other kids there running, yelling, and riding bikes in circles. There was a nice lady in the gym, handing out helium balloons. Hildr got a blue one from her, and told the lady about the butterflies on her shoes.

One the way to the classroom, we ended up in the library. They have lots of books, obviously, and everything in bright colors. The thing we noticed right away, however, was a set of Anklungs, Indonesian Pitched Rattles. They are made of bamboo, and each one is tuned to a different note. Best of all, no one else knew what they were, and they said we could check them out and take them home for two weeks! Any school that lets you take instruments home must be OK.

We went to his classroom, and I met his teacher, the Genie. The Maestro was happy to learn that there was a large pretend kitchen, filled with food that he can eat because it’s made with sorghum. Hildr liked the footprints on the floor where the kids are supposed to line up to go to the library or the gym. She pointed them out to the Genie, and also pointed out the butterflies on her shoes.

I got to see the picture taken when the Genie came to our house to meet the Maestro. He wouldn’t come out of him room at all, until the Genie asked to see his Cello. He didn’t talk to the Genie while we were there last night, either. He took Hildr’s balloon instead.

One the way out, we stopped at the library to pick up the Anklung set, and Hildr’s balloon got away from The Maestro and popped on the ceiling. With the noise, and the strange people, and Riley saying he couldn’t play an Anklung until we got to the car, the balloon popping was the last straw. I walked outa crying Maestro in one arm and an octave set of pitched Indonesian rattles in the other. Riley and Hildr went for more balloons.

After he was in the car, with an Anklung in each hand, away from the noise, he was OK. He even told me that he was happy about his school. When Riley got in the car, he wouldn’t tell her that, claiming instead, “I cannot tell you anything!” Well, even transient good feelings are something, I guess. Hildr was just happy with her shoes. They have butterflies on them.

The Maestro tends to avoid change. He gets nervous in situations that he is not familiar with. Is he going to go and spend the whole time hiding under the table? Is he going to come home too wired to be able to handle anything for the rest of the day? What will this do to Cello practices? We don’t know. We feel certain that this is something we need to do, even if we don’t yet know how or why. Logically, there are a number of reasons why it makes sense, but there are just as many things that could cause it to blow up on us.

We made it home, and both kids immediately wanted to go to bed. Well, Hildr was pretending to be an elephant. She was too tired to see straight, but that didn’t keep her from pretending to be an elephant with her eyes closed.


The Maestro didn’t wake up until after I had to leave this morning. I was up early to get ready for class, and to make muffins so he could have a snack at school. His common routine is to wake up with low-blood sugar, immediately quaff a glass of soymilk and watch a video while everything comes to equilibrium inside him. According to Riley, he woke up quiet this morning and came out looking for the Anklungs that I wouldn’t let him sleep with. He sat down and ate a muffin, calmly.

She drove him to school, and delivered him to his classroom.

…time passes… …we wait… …are we crazy? Is this going to be a mess? Is he going to be a mess? Finally it's time for Riley to pick him up for lunch.

The Genie reported that the first hour was rough, then she tried being silly with him. I don’t know exactly what brand of silly she tried, but she got him to laugh, and everything was OK.

The Maestro reported that they sang Itsy-Bitsy Spider. Did they start with story time? No, they didn’t start with a story. Then they did start with a story. No they didn’t. Yes they did, then they didn’t. Then… they started with some books! There was a book with a cat. They went to the gym, and there were double tricycles, with a bench. The Maestro got to ride on the bench seat. No, he didn’t get to peddle. Oh, and the Genie was there.

Riley just called. The Maestro has taken a number of instruments into the blanket fort they built in the living room, and is playing school. I expect that later, if the kids in the blanket-fort school are lucky, they will have Hildegard come to show them her Cello, or a two-week-old kitty will decide to stop farming, and become their teacher, instead.

Lots could still happen, but it looks like this is going to be a good thing. We can practice cello before school, usually, and it looks like he isn’t going to be too wiped out to practice in the afternoons. So he can still do two practices a day. And maybe tomorrow, he’ll get to peddle the tandem tricycle.