A new record

2.5 hours into new school year before first trip to principal's office. Librarian didn't know that he has been allowed (for two years now) to have unobtrusive "fidget" toys to keep his fingers busy and help him sit still during circle time. She confiscated it as contraband; he yelled at her, and then took himself to the principal's office to cool down and get it back together. Which is progress, of a sort, albeit under unfortunate circumstances.

Meanwhile, the students' backpacks are stuffed with inspirational start-of-year screeds from the teachers; one parent was cooing over the one from T.K.'s former kindergarten teacher, a heart-stoppingly sugary little poem about how her job was to take our little stars and lovingly buff them and put them up in the sky. Gaaak. How many hours did my little star spend in her time-out -- excuse me, "magic" -- chair? Two days in, and he was begging me not to take him there again.

"I can't do it, Mom, I can't be a proper student!" When questioned, the teacher coyly denied the term.

"Oh, I NEVER say that. I just point to someone else and say that SHE'S being a proper student."

"Oh," sez I. "So if I point to someone else and say, "Now SHE'S a PROPER TEACHER," then what am I saying to you??" No answer to that. But apparently she's still in the business of buffing stars and putting them in the sky. And getting the rest started on their careers of marginalization and incarceration... Sigh.

You know that moment when the roller coaster is pulling away from the platform, and you're all strapped in, and it doesn't really matter whether you are screaming or not because what's coming is coming and you might as well just hunker down and hang on for the ride? Yeah. That.