(Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.)
Owen’s school had curriculum night a few weeks ago, and I went to his classroom to meet his teacher. We got to sit at our kid’s desk while his teacher made his presentation.
Whereas last year in kindergarten he had just a table and a chair, this year Owen has an actual desk, with a slot underneath the writing surface where he can store books and papers and his markers and scissors and pencil case.
I HATE THESE DESKS. When I was in school, all my papers would get crumpled and lost in the back, and without a visual reminder, I’d inevitably end up missing homework assignments because they were stuck in there. It was messy and cramped and I loathed how messy they got.
Within moments of looking underneath, seeing his extra papers stuck in the back, I was back there, in school, stuck in the fourth grade, my name on the board with a warning for missing a homework assignment.
So a warning. School desk PTSD is a very real thing if you were a student like I was: relatively smart, but very unorganized. And something as simple as “curriculum night” could make it all come rushing back.