The New New School

Did I mention that we had to change schools — again — because we found out that they were regularly letting the kids watch TV? Up to 40 minutes a day, to occupy them during transition times like going potty and making lunch. Which is not evil or anything, and is, in fact, exactly how we use television. But I am not a professional. I am a parent.

The Old New School neither hid nor volunteered this detail. And of course, I did not ask about because TV was such anathema to my idea of school (unless you count the obligatory after-school specials in health class and that one time we watched "Gandhi" in the fifth grade and I was the only kid who stayed awake to watch it. Just me and Mrs. Green, weeping at the end).

For those of you keeping track, the Old New School was the one we had originally rejected because we thought it was too rigid, and we'd heard a rumor they wouldn't let the kids watch any TV at home. Ha! Those kids probably know what languages they speak in Canada from watching reruns of "You Can't Do That on Television."

We'd only ended up there because they called us and had an earlier opening, and it was good timing and convenient, and ultimately...crappy. After much hysteria and contemplation (thank you to Mary Ellen and everyone else I called up to affirm my gut feeling), we decided to change Lu to yet another school — the Original New School, the kinder, gentler school — after only 10 days.

She might someday be talking to her shrink about those two worst weeks of her young life. But in the meantime she is in the New New Schoool, a very sweet little Montessori joint where she is learning a lot. Like how the sun is not a planet. And the days of the week in Spanish. And to stand in line with her hands clasped patiently behind her back (sounds fascist, but is cute, I swear). All without the help of TV.