Postcards from the Mothership

So here’s an interesting situation that I did not see coming. The boys have been discouraged from playing together in the school yard. Apparently, a Grade 1 student is not supposed to play with a Grade 3 student at recess, even if they are siblings.

In their old school, we would have been facing a similar sort of problem had the boys stayed. Tristan’s best friend was in a grade ahead of him, and when they were in Grades 2 and 3, they were allowed to play together at recess. However, the school has a rule that forbids primary kids from playing with junior kids, and even allocates separate parts of the yard for them. While it was fine in Grades 2 and 3 when they were both in the primary grades, once they reached Grades 3 and 4 they’d have an invisible wall between them. Seemed rather silly to me at the time, and I’d been steeling myself for an argument with the school to allow it.

Well, I solved that problem rather unintentionally by yanking the boys out of their comfortable friendships and dumping them into a new school. I was very surprised, though, to hear that brothers were being discouraged from playing with each other. In fact, I ended up speaking to both their teachers this week on a separate issue, and both teachers emphasized the importance of each of them playing with their same-grade peers.

On one hand, I get it. They’re new to the school, and it’s important that they make friends with their classmates. They need to be open to the other kids of their own age groups. On the other hand, I’m concerned about the idea that they are not “allowed” to play with each other, and that cross-grade friendships are discouraged.

It’s the elder who seems to be having the most trouble settling in, and the one whom I think would most benefit from making an extra effort to make his own friends. And it’s the younger who is most resistant to the idea. Just in the past week or so, the elder has found a little niche of friends and I’ve heard happy reports of recess shenanigans revolving around playing characters out of Super Mario Bros. The youngest is desperate to be included, and in fact has always seen himself as his brother’s peer.

For all I know, this rule is universal and would have been the same at the old school, and we just never encountered it because Simon was only in afternoon SK the year we left. I’m curious as to whether any of you have experienced a bias against cross-grade friendships in your kids’ schools? What do you think of the idea of kids being discouraged from playing with kids outside of their grade? Should exceptions be made for siblings? Is it healthier to encourage them to form separate peer groups, or to let them rely on each other? While it might not seem it at the time, elementary school is really just a tiny portion of a child’s life — but siblings last forever.

What do you think?

This blog post was inspired by a conversation on Twitter. Canadian Family asked its followers “On a scale of 1-10 (10=very), how important is it to you that your kids have good table manners?” I replied that while I rate the importance of table manners at a 10+, I rate my actual accomplishment at instilling table manners a rather measly 3 to 3.5, tops.

I try, I really do. Family meal time is incredibly important to me, and we dine together each night. I love the idea of raising polite, respectful, well-mannered little Stepford boys who know which fork applies to which course, and who can carry on a polite mealtime discourse on the use of the Oxford comma. Each meal together brings yet another opportunity for new lessons and gentle correction. And? Horrendous failure on the manners front. Sadly, I am vastly outnumbered, and it is an uphill battle where concessions are made rather gratuitously and despite my best intentions.

I found the following list of North American table manners on Wikipedia. I’ve added our interpretation of each “rule”.

Dip your soup spoon away from you into the soup. Eat soup noiselessly, from the side of the spoon. When there is a small amount left, you may lift the front end of the dish slightly with your free hand to enable collection of more soup with your spoon. We are satisfied when soup is not lapped from the bowl in the manner of a dog.

If you are having difficulty getting food onto your fork, use a small piece of bread or your knife to assist. Never use your fingers. Fork use writ large is the exception rather than the rule. See above re: soup.

There should be no negative comments about the food nor of the offerings available. Vigourous and entertaining if not tedious campaigns are regularly mounted with regard to the consumption of vegetables and other suspicious foods. When relenting to consumption, energies are then expended on bartering required quantities.

Chew with your mouth closed. Do not slurp, talk with food in your mouth, or make loud or unusual noises while eating. I truly believe they are incapable of surviving a 15 minute period without making loud or unusual noises, while eating or otherwise.

Say “Excuse me,” or “Excuse me. I’ll be right back,” before leaving the table. Do not state that you are going to the restroom. Usually, one leaps from the table with a look of panic and darts from the room hollering, “Make way, make way, I gotta go peeeeeeee” as they run down the hallway. As long as no mention is made of draining the main vein or seeing a man about a horse, I’m okay with that.

Do not talk excessively loudly. Give others equal opportunities for conversation. Ha! ’nuff said.

Refrain from blowing your nose at the table. Excuse yourself from the table if you must do so. Frankly, I’m happy if they blow their noses with a tissue at the table. It’s the gratuitous use of sleeve that rankles me. Especially when it’s MY sleeve.

Burping, coughing, yawning, sneezing, or flatulence at the table should be avoided. If you do so, say, “Excuse me.” If you say “Excuse me” in burp language, does that count?

Never slouch or tilt back while seated in your chair. At any given moment of a meal, I am quite sure there are at least four chair legs out of contact with the ground. I’m beginning to believe the house is tilted.

Do not “play with” your food or utensils. Never wave or point silverware. Does stabbing someone in the back of the hand over the last piece of pie count? Because Beloved has done that. To me. More than once. And also? Does playing with someone else’s food count?

You may rest forearms or hands on the table, but not elbows. I’m okay with elbows on the table, not so much elbows or foreheads on the plate itself.

If food must be removed from the mouth for some reason, it should be done using the same method which was used to bring the food to the mouth, i.e. by hand, by fork, etc., with the exception of fish bones, which are removed from the mouth between the fingers. What, simply opening your mouth and letting gravity pull half-masticated food back on to your plate is not an acceptable way to register that a particular taste does not suit your palate?

Gentlemen should stand when a lady leaves or rejoins the table. Yeah, and the whole table would be bouncing up and down like their chairs were pogo sticks. “Mom, I need a drink.” “Mom, can you get the ketchup?” “Mom, I dropped the dipping sauce into my lap!” “Mom, did you forget my drink?” Gah.

The Canadian Family peeps said that on their informal Twitter poll, respondents ranked the importance of table manners at 9.8 out of 10. But here’s what I’d really like to know: how do you rate your own kids’ table manners on a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being “My children could teach the Queen a few tidbits on etiquette over tea at Buckingham Palace”?

And really, is it a boy thing? Cuz that’s my excuse and I’m sticking with it.