Those of you following Ignatz’s academic exploits will recall that I was teaching him Greek so he’d be ready for the third year of his new school. Yeah, that didn’t work out. About three chapters in, he decided it was too much work and he’d rather go into the second year, and take an extra year of school in order to save himself a bit of effort right now (so completely typical). I stuck it out for another three chapters, but gargh. We fought about it every day, and eventually I just tabled it – we let the school know that Year 2 would be better, and I was waiting to see how that would work out before I brought up the Greek thing again. We just heard from them. He got a spot in Year 2, in the school that we bought a house near (they have two schools in the city). Exactly what we wanted, in other words, so now I don’t have to teach him Greek. Huzzah!
I still have to teach him French, though.
We have this four-page registration form we have to fill out, with a section for his current teacher to do too. It’s in Dutch, so I took the form to my Dutch lesson last Friday, and my teacher walked me through it. We are um, having to be very… informative! In filling out this form, because you know how you can sort of leave stuff out and then when they say “why didn’t you tell us!?” you can lamely reply, “You didn’t ask”? Yeah, not this time. This form’s all, does your kid have ADHD? Motivation problems? Crappy grades? Um, yeah…
Still, they’ve already offered him a place. They can’t change their minds, can they? Even after we tell them he has to start two days late because the sellers don’t want to be out of the house before September 1st?
Meanwhile, the Sniglet has to start a week and two days late. The Taalschool starts on August 23rd, and there is no way we can make that date. The director did say he can start whenever, because it’s for kids who’ve just moved to Utrecht, and they get there when they get there, right? So it shouldn’t be a major problem, but I should call them just to be polite.
So, at the moment school is rather the least of our worries, which is an unusual thing for us.
Song du jour of the day: If I Was President, by Wyclef Jean.