Monday, Aug. 13, 2007 | 7:14 a.m.
We knew raising a child in Las Vegas was going to be different.
But we couldn't have anticipated that only two classmates would show up for our son's birthday party, and his school would be so crowded that he and his first grade class spent the year on the move, sharing other kids' classrooms, never able to hang their work on their own walls.
We moved here in November from San Diego and found a lovely house in Mountain's Edge, near a new neighborhood elementary school, William V. Wright. It was a far cry from where my wife and I grew up, in friendly, one-school towns in eastern Texas. Sending our son to a new school certainly held some appeal for us.
And then we got a quick lesson on the challenges facing Clark County schools as we watched Wright struggle through its first year.
Growth (and yes, we were part of it) seemed to overwhelm the school. A teacher told me that more than 1,700 students attended our school, a mind-boggling figure for a small-town boy.
Our son was assigned a teacher without her own classroom. When another class went on track break - a new addition to our vocabulary - our son's class moved into the newly vacated room. When that class returned, our teacher moved to another empty classroom.
By our count, our son has moved nine times since Nov . 1, the day he started school. The teacher told the kids not to touch things in the room, because it wasn't really theirs. On Fridays before a new room assignment, part of the day was spent getting ready to move to the new location. The teacher kept her books and materials in boxes or big plastic bins, and lugged them to the next room.
Most recently, my son was in a fifth grade classroom, where he marveled at the bigger desks. "Most kids' feet don't touch the ground, but mine kinda do," he announced proudly.
Then there was the surprise hidden in the yearbook. We gladly forked over the $20 for the memento, only to discover that out of 60 classes at the school, ours was one of two (squeezed on to the same page) that had one single class photo with a group caption under it. The other classes each got a whole page, with individual student photos. For my wife, it was one final reminder of a year that felt like our class didn't quite count the same as others.
On the bright side, the school made nice adjustments.
The first few months, students at lunch were instructed to move toward one end of the table to close ranks immediately after any student finished and left. The purpose was to make room for other students waiting to eat. That kind of up-and-down-between-bites drill hardly encouraged a child to finish his meal. But the folks at Wright did stop that practice so the kids could sit in the same place while eating.
At the start and end of the school day, the parking lot was just shy of a bumper-car ride. After the PTA and administrators pleaded for civility, some order was restored.
Our emotions have included despair - contemplating moving to an established neighborhood with a school that has a more stabilized enrollment.
We've also felt hope for where we live. Construction has slowed and the new Forbuss Elementary is opening nearby, so relief seemed imminent. But while waiting for the all-important track and teacher assignment for second grade, we read on the school's Web site: "Due to an increase in our enrollment, we are in the process of adjusting the 07-08 classroom lists."
Did they say an increase?
It's hard for us to fathom another year in that type of environment. And another birthday party like the last one.
Some moms live for that kind of event . Our son's seventh birthday was approaching, and my wife wanted his first birthday party in Las Vegas to be perfect.
He had been in school for three months, and we hadn't been able to meet many other parents, so the birthday party was paramount for all of us. We would invite the whole class, kids would frolic, parents would mingle. Our son updated us on which kids said they would come, even though the RSVPs weren't exactly flooding in.
This was the norm in San Diego. In kindergarten and a few months of first grade, we had probably been to 20 birthday parties, running a circuit with the same basic group of kids and parents.
Not this year.
My wife spent a couple of weeks tracking down a bounce house, which towered over the back yard. Pizzas were laid out on the counter, cake was on the table.
And two classmates showed up.
One girl was simply dropped off at the front door - along with an older brother. When the mother returned a few hours later, she called for her kids from her car.
The other mom came in. She was a recent transplant from Florida and marveled with my wife at just how different things are here.
She's right.
I feel guilty I've put my son in this situation. I hope more friends come to his next birthday party. And that he will have his own classroom and be able to hang things on the wall.
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