Thanksgiving in our home is a frantic time for me. I’m baking late into the night while my husband is beginning one of his complicated, but outstanding, dishes for the feast. By morning, we are both blurry-eyed and racing to get things done. There are usually some “animated exchanges” over who is getting into the bathroom next (only one bath in our one hundred year old house) and I’m still trying to do last-minute cleaning. The kids chase each other into the kitchen, and then my husband, the iron chef, or myself, the pseudo cook, chases them out. By the time guests arrive, I’m frantic and exhausted.

It really shouldn’t be that difficult for me. My husband loves to cook and does so superbly. But it is difficult for me. I put more pressure on myself to finally cook something great this year. There is also the pressure of getting everything else to come together and creating some Norman Rockwell holiday. I guess we all have our hangups.

Then it’s prayer time, our opportunity to thank God for all we have. My mind is racing instead of praying. It’s off and running in a thousand different directions. With one eye open during the prayer, I search the table to make sure the cranberries are out and then re-orient myself back to the prayer. The other thoughts keep coming. Is my 98 year old grandmother comfortable in her chair? Is my daughter going to make it through the meal without falling asleep or having a meltdown because she is overtired? By the time we get to “Amen”, I’m praying for the day to be over. So much for gratitude.

This year was different, however. My husband’s grandparents and his uncle were going to be alone for the holiday. A three hour car ride had become increasingly difficult for Grandma and Grandpa. It made more sense for us to go up there. We thought about cooking for them but then decided going out to dinner would be easier for everyone. The three of them, Grandma, Grandpa and Uncle R., and the four of us would have a non-traditional, but less stressful Thanksgiving.

With few choices in this part of Wisconsin, we ate at one of those supper clubs with a smokey bar/lounge attached to it and the Packers game playing in the background. Fortunately, the restaurant wasn’t smokey.

The food wasn’t the greatest but then neither is mine, and since I didn’t have to cook or wash dishes it tasted pretty good. Even more important, this felt like thanksgiving. When it was time for the prayer, I wasn’t worried about getting all the food on the table or lamenting how tired I was. My prayer was truly heartfelt. No frenzied racing thoughts took over my mind. I was especially grateful to still have grandparents in our lives, and for my children to know their great-grandparents on both sides of the family. Of course, I didn’t forget to thank God for no cooking and no clean up.

Do you sometimes wonder what happens at your child’s school once that first bell rings? More specifically, what are the school’s priorities regarding education? What does your school value, and do these values mesh with your own?

I’m not speaking of the school’s intended priorities or values. You probably won’t hear any school representative say, “Math is outdated. Spelling isn’t important. And by the way, books are useless relics.” Mission statements and school board agendas are well and good, but what is carried out on daily basis matters much more. What takes place within the building may tell a very different story from what school administrators say. For a variety of reasons, intentions don’t always materialize into actions.

So, how do you find out your child experiences? Try volunteering. If at all possible, volunteer during school hours. Don’t give up if you can’t be there during school hours? Try helping out when you can, but do try to work inside the building. Extra-curricular sports and activities probably give you the best opportunity to help after school.

Once you’re at the school, take in everything. Look at the students’ artwork in and around classrooms. What’s in the display case? Listen to the teachers, secretaries, and aides. Are they enthusiastic, or do they seem worn down? Do they use appropriate language and correct grammar? (You might be surprised.) How prominent is the library? Does it have a good supply of material? Is everything in the building in working order and is it clean? Also, don’t forget to listen to the students, not only what they say, but how they say it. Listen also to the way teachers and students interact. Is there a mutual exchange of respect?

Don’t assume that teachers and administrators always have everything under control. This is a lot to ask of anyone. Your efforts might help them out in an area in which their hands are tied. And of course, they are subject to the same human imperfections that we are. Who among us couldn’t use a little help once in awhile?

Volunteering accomplishes at least three things. First, you are helping out the school. Second, your child sees her parent actively participating in her education and in the community. And third, you guessed it-you get to see how the wheels turn inside the school.

For me, I’ve learned my lessons in our school’s library where I volunteer cataloguing books every week or so. I think the superintendent, principal, teachers, and aides do make a concerted effort. However, for whatever reason, some key details have been neglected. I plan to write a series of blog entries on these issues over the next several weeks. My intention isn’t to cast blame but to point out some of my experiences which are probably not unique to our school district. The good new is that volunteer efforts and parent involvement have a way of ushering in positive change.

At what age do you worry about another child’s violent behavior? Three years old sounds pretty young, and most people aren’t too concerned about “preschool shootings”. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m worried about my daughter’s safety at preschool.

The other night I was putting Lil Miss to bed and we were doing are usual snuggling, prayers, and I love you’s. It was a happy moment. That moment ended abruptly. My daughter looked up to me and with a big smile said “I’m going to kill you Mommy.”

It took my breath away. This was completely uncharacteristic of her. She has always been a very gentle soul. Her brother has never said things like that, and we have always carefully monitored and limited videos or television. Where was this coming from? Did she even know what the word “kill” meant?

She must have seen the expression on my face change because she looked at me totally perplexed, and then smiled again and said, “I mean, I love you Mommy.” I asked her where she heard someone say that before. At first she wouldn’t tell me. Then she named one cat and then the other. When she realized that wasn’t going to work, she finally said a boy in her class had said this to her.

And then she told me the boys name and I believed her. I hated myself for thinking this about a child, but we’ve had problems with him in the past. Lil Miss is pretty quiet at school but has always gotten along with everyone. This little boy has hit her, pushed her, and kicked her. Almost every child in the class has been victimized by him at some point. I thought the teacher had it under control. She had struggled with him from the beginning of the year. When I helped out with her Halloween party, this little boy had to have one of the teachers by his side at every moment or he would get into trouble.

The little boy comes into school with toy guns and swords. One day, I was dropping my daughter off at school when his Mother was also dropping him off. As he walked up to the door, his Mother called after him that had forgotten his sword. She ran up to him, plastic sword in hand and delivered the weapon to him, much to the disgust of the horror-stricken teacher. The teacher did take the weapon away. I assumed she talked to the Mom about it, but now I’m not so sure.

What is happening in this child’s home? His parents appear to be affectionate and loving to him. They are going the extra mile to pay for preschool which is pretty costly, and I think they struggle financially. His Mother always hugs and kisses him before she leaves. Still, I can’t ignore that he carries these toy weapons in like a security blanket or a teddy bear. It makes my blood run cold, but I believe these weapons are his security. Are these well-meaning, but naïve, parents? Regardless, it is incredibly irresponsible parenting. Maybe it can be remedied with mentoring or parenting classes, but it needs to be addressed. Monday morning, I am speaking to the teacher.

I have talked to Lil Miss about what she said, explaining as gently as I could the violence and permanence of killing. She doesn’t quite understand it, but she knows it’s something that hurts someone. And for now, that’s enough information.