The Red Square

When Quinn started junior kindergarten this past September at the tender age of 3 and half years, I admit I was nervous. I was worried that the day would be too long, his classmates and teachers wouldn't understand (his missing front teeth and all), he wouldn't understand the concepts being taught, and out of frustration, he would act out, hit, scream and behave badly.
When the first week, and then the first month went by without a call from the teachers, we breathed a small sigh of relief. The teachers seemed to understand he was very very young, and whenever his kindergarten teacher saw me, she had nothing negative to report. Still, I wondered about his behaviour in the classroom, because, well, because I know my kid.
Academically, Quinn seems to be growing in leaps and bounds. He can write his own name, and is starting to figure out slowly which letters make what sound. He counts well, especially if he's expecting a certain number of treats. He knows his left and right much better than his older siblings. He's always excited to read books and will have memorized the story within a short period of time.
Still, we wondered about his behaviour because he can be an absolute brat at home, and will hit or kick or scream when he doesn't get his way.
But the report cards made no mention of any unacceptable behaviour in the classroom.
On the weekend, Quinn was acting out. He received a number of warnings, and was about to placed on the time out stool.
Daddy asked, "Do you do this at school? How many times do you get send to the time out corner?"
Quinn replied, "We don't have a time out. We have to sit on the red square!"
Daddy and I looked at each other. Red Square? This was the first time we had ever heard of this!
"Really? Red square? How many times do you have sit on that?" we asked.
"A lot!" he answered unabashedly.
"What?! Who else sits on the red square?"
He named off almost of his friends.
We were aghast! Here we were thinking our youngest was an angel in class! Well, no, not really. We had acknowledged to ourselves he was probably a sh-- in class, but the teachers were handling it and we hadn't received any calls at home, yet. Unlike Devlin, whom we received calls from the vice principal during his first week of junior kindergarten, and didn't find out until recently that he had thrown his shoe at the teacher! But, we hadn't asked Quinn's teachers, because, why rock the boat? No news is good news, right?
Daddy went to the school today and inquired about Quinn and the red square.Turns out, he hardly ever earns a turn on the red square. His cronies, however, are regulars.

Mother's Day 2016

A few weeks ago, we were having yet another dispute over homework and getting assignments completed in time. We as in daddy and I versus Devlin. We were getting fed up with his sloppy writing, and his last minute rush efforts to complete typing his projects. On night, Devlin asked me for a family recipe, out of the blue. I blew up at him. Here again, was another example of a last minute attempt to complete a homework assignment. As well, I was probably under pressure from the amount of work I had brought home from the office.
"What kind of recipe?" I snapped at my first born.
"I don't know...something that's about our family...something good," he mumbled.
I was exasperated. I had to review a trial file and prepare the next day's meal, while overseeing laundry or pulling Quinn off my leg.
"Well, we cook lots of foods, so give me a hint" I yelled. "Main course? Appetizer? Salad? Dessert?"
Devlin decided after much hemming and hawing that he wanted the recipe for the oreo brownies, aka better than heaven brownies, which is a lovely, chocolately combination of chocolate chip cookie, oreos and brownies.
I admit I was really pissed at my first born at this point. I gave him a very easy short cut recipe, and I probably was yelling out the instructions, while making observations about his lack of work ethic when it came to school.
Then I forgot about that incident. Because, in a family of four kids, there was another crisis to deal with, like holey socks, or the lack of apples for lunch.
It was Mother's day yesterday. I was awakened by a cuddly 4 year old who thought it was great fun to eat all the strawberries and whipped cream that was my "breakfast in bed". And command his sisters to bring more.
I also received several handmade crafts with messages proclaiming their love for me. Quinn had a planted flower, slightly crushed, and card stating his mother's vital stats. According to him, I am 5 years old, my favorite colour is blue, I love to play with toys and I do read him stories.
Devlin presented me with a cookbook. An international cookbook. It was a collection of recipes from all of the students in the class who contributed family favorite recipes, reflecting their cultural and ethnic backgrounds. There was a recipe for Jolloff rice from Ghana, Ackee and saltfish and fired plantains from Jamaica, chicken palao and butter chicken from India, stuffed peppers from Serbia, perogies from the Ukraine. There were lots of southeast Asian recipes. There were some unexpected recipes like moussaka from Serbia, chicken pot pie made with Stove top stuffing from Ireland, something called lamb on a stick from Ireland.
And the last page was my son's contribution. "Magic" Brownies. And, the only Canadian contribution.
There were pictures accompanying the recipes. Thank gawd there was only a photo a chocolate brownie, and not something leafy green!