When my boss asked me to extend my overseas assignment, the request was for another year. That would have had us returning in April. When we agreed to do it, is was under the condition it was until the end of the school year. That happened the first week of June.
Our daughter, attending the Jakarta International School, ended her year with what they call a "Work Share Day". This is an opportunity for the children to share the work they've accomplished throghout the year in every subject. Our daughter shared with us the books she'd read, the stories she'd written, the plant she grew in her science class, the pictures she painted and sculptures she made in art class, and, finally, the kids all sang some songs for us to demonstrate what they had learned in music class.
This event occurred on a Tuesday morning the second day of my boss's visit from the US. The Montessori school my son attended this year, the same my daughter attended for two years, always holds their event on a Saturday so father's can attend. I was one of three fathers attending this event. Mothers were in abundance.
We left very impressed with all our daughter had accomplished throughout the year. We're very proud of her.
Our son's program was the following Saturday. This year's theme was Bugs. Per usual, their songs and speaking had a strong emphasis on good citizenship, caring for the environment, and having confidence in oneself.
This was our son's first ever performance for anyone other than family (unless you count the time at Universal Studios that music resulted in his spontaneous transformation to "dance mode"). He was excited and practiced for us for several weeks in advance. We were looking forward to seeing the songs he practiced within the greater context of the larger performance. As it turned out, none of the songs and dances he did for us were part of his routine. They were from the older classes, but he apparently enjoyed them more.
When he walked down the aisle with his class, we remarked how cute he looked in his costume. "He is such a cute caterpillar", my wife said. "Why is he white?", I asked. In the car ride home, we learned the answer.
"What were you dressed as?", my wife asked him.
With as much pride as a two year old can muster, he replied: "A maggot."
Lovely.
Our daughter, attending the Jakarta International School, ended her year with what they call a "Work Share Day". This is an opportunity for the children to share the work they've accomplished throghout the year in every subject. Our daughter shared with us the books she'd read, the stories she'd written, the plant she grew in her science class, the pictures she painted and sculptures she made in art class, and, finally, the kids all sang some songs for us to demonstrate what they had learned in music class.
This event occurred on a Tuesday morning the second day of my boss's visit from the US. The Montessori school my son attended this year, the same my daughter attended for two years, always holds their event on a Saturday so father's can attend. I was one of three fathers attending this event. Mothers were in abundance.
We left very impressed with all our daughter had accomplished throughout the year. We're very proud of her.
Our son's program was the following Saturday. This year's theme was Bugs. Per usual, their songs and speaking had a strong emphasis on good citizenship, caring for the environment, and having confidence in oneself.
This was our son's first ever performance for anyone other than family (unless you count the time at Universal Studios that music resulted in his spontaneous transformation to "dance mode"). He was excited and practiced for us for several weeks in advance. We were looking forward to seeing the songs he practiced within the greater context of the larger performance. As it turned out, none of the songs and dances he did for us were part of his routine. They were from the older classes, but he apparently enjoyed them more.
When he walked down the aisle with his class, we remarked how cute he looked in his costume. "He is such a cute caterpillar", my wife said. "Why is he white?", I asked. In the car ride home, we learned the answer.
"What were you dressed as?", my wife asked him.
With as much pride as a two year old can muster, he replied: "A maggot."
Lovely.
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