Saturday School

Today is the first week of Saturday school, and it was my turn to take Chloe. I'm adding this phenomenon to my French list, too. I'll never understand why there's no school on Wednesday but school on Saturday. Surely, they have to know how much this screws up parents' schedules.

Philippe is off to the register the girls in some sort of Wednesday activity. I love my daughters, really I do, but if I have to spend my entire day breaking up fights, trying to decipher who hit whom first and why, I'll lose my mind. Enrolling them in an activity (one or two hours) helps me to keep my sanity.

Jillian will be taking an English class. Although she and Chloe are both currently enrolled in what I call "Mommy school," Jillian still doesn't speak English as well as I'd like. Although she speaks English when she wants to, she understands English much better than she speaks. It's understandable, I guess, since she did arrive in France at two weeks old. Some would argue that French is her mother tongue but I beg to differ. That's an argument for another day.

After almost three hours of waiting, Philippe managed to get Chloe registered in a beginners gymnastics class, her first choice. I couldn't phantom the wait but then Philippe reminded me about the long wait at a particular public park across the street from our old house, Welles Park. From our living room window, it was virtually a tradition to watch people line up the night before registration, in sub-zero January weather, to register their kids for summer camp programs. We literally lived across the street but could never get Chloe registered.

Personally, I don't care if Chloe's good or bad at gymnastics. For once, I just want her to go to class more than four times before giving up. Last year it was chess and the year before, karate. Although I'll forgive her for karate. Honestly, she quit after spending 14 hours at a karate tournament in which all she got was a tiny medal as a parting gift. Somewhere around hour five, I said to Philippe, "Who is the organizer of this thing and where can I find him so I can smack 'em! Seriously, I think I can take 'em down!" I was lucky because I had Jillian, and at one point we ran out of diapers. I had to go home, but Philippe and Chloe soldiered on.

Even if gymnastics doesn't work, there's always the tennis or fencing, the backups. No laughing about the fencing because it could land her a full ride to an IVY league school - seriously. What mother wouldn't want her kid to hang out at Harvard or Yale? ;-)