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Remember a year ago? When I admitted I hated our neighborhood and hated living here, and felt like the house was out to get me with the illnesses and the accidents and the breaking stuff? I forget, did I tell you that part? Let's pretend I didn't actually believe that. My husband, because he is a saint, told me that if I gave it a year and I was still miserable, we would move, even if it was a crazy thing to do.
Amazingly enough, just knowing that we could move in a year if I still felt awful was enough to make me feel better. Not perfect, but better. And then I gave it time, and effort, and patience, and things actually did start to get better. Gabe stopped going to school in our old town so I wasn't driving an hour every day to preschool, and I started spending time in our own community. Over the summer I walked around the neighborhood and took the kids to the park and the beach and met people and came out of my shell and made friends. I asked perfect strangers if they'd like to do a playdate or grab coffee, and with time, I found a little circle of friends. Josie and I joined a playgroup, I started a book club, I came to love our neighborhood. I came to be incredibly grateful for the move and the house and the changes we've made.
Don't get me wrong, I still occasionally go to our old neighborhood and look at the smaller houses, closer together, right on the subway line, with sushi and ice cream in walking distance, and I feel a tiny pang of sadness, but I am positive that this move was the right thing for our family. The right thing for my children, who already have so much more than I ever had in my life.
Just remind me of this the next time I sound like an ungrateful bitch, okay?
Showing posts with label hubris is a terrible thing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hubris is a terrible thing. Show all posts
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
how 'bout actual "face-time" instead?
Am I the only one who is sick of Facebook?
I seem to have a different opinion of what the purpose of Facebook is than several of the people with whom I'm "friends", and that opinion is that it isn't your platform for spewing your hatred or bigotry or close-minded political thoughts. And when I voiced that opinion, it is apparently me who is intolerant and ignorant.
I guess I thought Facebook was for, oh, I don't know, keeping in touch with friends? Not for condemning other religions, or posting your long-winded Bible thumping prayers**, or being generally nasty to anyone who disagrees with your opinions.
Ugh, alright I'm stopping now before I start being the offending person to all my readers. I don't know, I'm just not into it anymore, and I'm finding that I don't care about reading the reports from those supposed "long lost friends" who aren't really my friends, and I'm annoyed when I have to read reports from my in-town friends on Facebook rather than hear about them in real life.
Of course Facebook has its benefits, I guess I'm just grumpy and can't see those benefits right now. Grrr.
_____________________________
**Edited to add:
There are Biblical quotes, and then there are "Bible-thumping quotes". I consider those to be verses from the Bible that are very condemning of other religions or sexual orientations or the like. I think you know what I mean. Those are the Biblical quotes that bother me.
I seem to have a different opinion of what the purpose of Facebook is than several of the people with whom I'm "friends", and that opinion is that it isn't your platform for spewing your hatred or bigotry or close-minded political thoughts. And when I voiced that opinion, it is apparently me who is intolerant and ignorant.
I guess I thought Facebook was for, oh, I don't know, keeping in touch with friends? Not for condemning other religions, or posting your long-winded Bible thumping prayers**, or being generally nasty to anyone who disagrees with your opinions.
Ugh, alright I'm stopping now before I start being the offending person to all my readers. I don't know, I'm just not into it anymore, and I'm finding that I don't care about reading the reports from those supposed "long lost friends" who aren't really my friends, and I'm annoyed when I have to read reports from my in-town friends on Facebook rather than hear about them in real life.
Of course Facebook has its benefits, I guess I'm just grumpy and can't see those benefits right now. Grrr.
_____________________________
**Edited to add:
There are Biblical quotes, and then there are "Bible-thumping quotes". I consider those to be verses from the Bible that are very condemning of other religions or sexual orientations or the like. I think you know what I mean. Those are the Biblical quotes that bother me.
Monday, August 31, 2009
cleanliness is next to... oh whatever
I've mentioned many times before that I (we) tend toward the very messy side of things. Most of the time, there are messes in every single room of the house, a fact that drives me CRAZY because really, why is our dining room messy? We never even use it, so how can it possibly accumulate junk?
Having the house on the market has been a huge wake-up call. I simply cannot allow the house to get in a serious state of messiness, particularly since we could get a call for a showing at any moment, and lately potential buyers have not been giving me much notice. I've actually had to cancel plans at 11:57am because a buyer wants to come by at 1pm and I need to frantically pick up toys. It has been a struggle, that's for sure.
I have learned some serious lessons about keeping the house clean, though. Some of them are easy, others impossibly hard, but certain tips have improved my life drastically, so I figured I'd share.
1. Get rid of half of your stuff.
I know, I know, it sounds ridiculous, but this is the absolute top of the list of what worked for us. Those toys your kids never play with? Sell them, give them away, get rid of them somehow. You know all those books you have that you may someday possibly read? Chuck them. Or don't chuck them because throwing books away is a mortal sin in my book, but give them away to your friends or sell them at that used bookstore in town and get credit to buy new books you really are going to read! I cannot tell you how much this helped. We got rid of countless pieces of excess furniture, clothes, toys, books, dishes and cookware- all things we hadn't looked at in years and were just holding onto for some imaginary future point in time. Just declutter the heck out of your house, but make it a huge sweep. Look at everything, chairs, couches, extra tables, whatever. Be ruthless.
2. Only keep enough stuff for your house today.
My worst sin was saving stuff for our future home or yard or bedroom that might be bigger. I couldn't throw away stuff that was perfectly good but didn't fit our home now, because what if we move and have a bigger home? I had 5 bookshelves worth of books, but only one bookshelf in this house. Fit your stuff to the space you have today, not some imagined amount of space you might have tomorrow. Unfortunately, this meant we had to get rid of books and cds and empty binders and folders, because this is how much space we had today, not tomorrow. If we do move and do have more space, well, I'm sure it won't take me long (unfortunately) to accumulate more stuff.
3. Find a place for everything.
It sounds obvious, but this one blew my mind. Rather than making piles of junk mail and magazine articles and items that didn't fit anywhere- find or make a place for all of these things. Just take the time to do it once, and it will change your life. It turns out that whole "a place for everything and everything in its place" is true! Who would've thunk it? Now, when the mail comes in, I don't throw it on the table, I toss the junk and then sort the rest into its respective place. The toys in the living room get placed into the appropriate basket and the clothes get put into their dresser drawer or closet spot. No more piles sitting in laundry baskets indefinitely (at least, not every day).
4. Don't make extra work for yourself.
If you are carrying a plate to the kitchen anyway, don't toss it in the sink. Rinse it and place it in the dishwasher. Sure, it'll take 5 extra seconds right then and there, but you won't have to look at the piles of dishes throughout the day, you won't get fruit flies, it won't stink, and you won't have to take 5 minutes to wash them at the end of the day. Don't throw your clothes on the bathroom floor where you'll have to pick them up anyway, just throw them in the hamper. This one has been a tough one for us, because the mental energy we have to expend to stay on top of keeping neat is difficult, but worth it when I don't have to walk into the kitchen at 10pm and find piles of extra work you still have to do.
5.Hold open houses every Sunday so you are forced to clean up. Set up a weekly time to do a quick sweep of the house.
It is amazing what a few minutes on Saturday night will do for your sanity and tidiness. Josh and I do it together and race through the house with the intention of getting through it quickly and settling down to watch a movie. I find this step the hardest of the ones listed above, because this takes actual motivation when you are feeling tired and lazy. It really does take no time at all, and once it becomes a habit, it makes a huge difference.
6. Purchase a basket or laundry basket for different zones in the house.
I went to Target and bought 4 laundry baskets, all the same, for each of the 4 members of our family. The laundry baskets are on the smaller size, so they don't take up too much space, and they are all exactly the same so I can stack them when they are not in use. When I do laundry, I fold each person's load straight into their respective laundry basket and then carry it up to their room. When I do a big clean up also, I use those laundry baskets to get each person's stuff back in their room too. So Gabe's cars, trucks, and trains all get piled into his laundry basket and placed in his room. These laundry baskets are small enough to fit on our closet floors, so if I can get to it to put away his toys and laundry- great! If not, I shove the basket into his closet and tackle it tomorrow when I'm getting him up or dressed or playing in his room. In a pinch, I've even shoved these baskets into the car when we have a showing and I don't want the closet to look crowded. 4 smaller baskets feel much easier to tackle then one heaping pile of clothes. Also, what do you do when you need your child's clothes at the bottom of the pile, and tons of clothes are sitting on top? This way, I'm hoping I'll even be able to teach Gabe to put away his clothes relatively soon. I'm also keeping better track of everyone's clothes because all mismatched socks or loose toys all get put into one (or four) central spots and I know where to find them.
I'm by no means an expert, but as a messy person who has now kept the house neat and clean for 2+ months without a major slip-up, I feel like I have learned some valuable tips for changing our life. I've also been shocked, honestly, at how much easier it is to keep the house clean when it is all picked up! It takes me no time at all to dust and vacuum and wipe down surfaces when I don't have to spend 2 hours beforehand picking up toys and clothes. That being said, I'm anxiously awaiting the day when I don't have to keep the house in this perfect state every day and we don't have any more showings. But I know I won't let it get to the same point it was before, that's for sure.
Any other tips that are helpful to you?
Having the house on the market has been a huge wake-up call. I simply cannot allow the house to get in a serious state of messiness, particularly since we could get a call for a showing at any moment, and lately potential buyers have not been giving me much notice. I've actually had to cancel plans at 11:57am because a buyer wants to come by at 1pm and I need to frantically pick up toys. It has been a struggle, that's for sure.
I have learned some serious lessons about keeping the house clean, though. Some of them are easy, others impossibly hard, but certain tips have improved my life drastically, so I figured I'd share.
1. Get rid of half of your stuff.
I know, I know, it sounds ridiculous, but this is the absolute top of the list of what worked for us. Those toys your kids never play with? Sell them, give them away, get rid of them somehow. You know all those books you have that you may someday possibly read? Chuck them. Or don't chuck them because throwing books away is a mortal sin in my book, but give them away to your friends or sell them at that used bookstore in town and get credit to buy new books you really are going to read! I cannot tell you how much this helped. We got rid of countless pieces of excess furniture, clothes, toys, books, dishes and cookware- all things we hadn't looked at in years and were just holding onto for some imaginary future point in time. Just declutter the heck out of your house, but make it a huge sweep. Look at everything, chairs, couches, extra tables, whatever. Be ruthless.
2. Only keep enough stuff for your house today.
My worst sin was saving stuff for our future home or yard or bedroom that might be bigger. I couldn't throw away stuff that was perfectly good but didn't fit our home now, because what if we move and have a bigger home? I had 5 bookshelves worth of books, but only one bookshelf in this house. Fit your stuff to the space you have today, not some imagined amount of space you might have tomorrow. Unfortunately, this meant we had to get rid of books and cds and empty binders and folders, because this is how much space we had today, not tomorrow. If we do move and do have more space, well, I'm sure it won't take me long (unfortunately) to accumulate more stuff.
3. Find a place for everything.
It sounds obvious, but this one blew my mind. Rather than making piles of junk mail and magazine articles and items that didn't fit anywhere- find or make a place for all of these things. Just take the time to do it once, and it will change your life. It turns out that whole "a place for everything and everything in its place" is true! Who would've thunk it? Now, when the mail comes in, I don't throw it on the table, I toss the junk and then sort the rest into its respective place. The toys in the living room get placed into the appropriate basket and the clothes get put into their dresser drawer or closet spot. No more piles sitting in laundry baskets indefinitely (at least, not every day).
4. Don't make extra work for yourself.
If you are carrying a plate to the kitchen anyway, don't toss it in the sink. Rinse it and place it in the dishwasher. Sure, it'll take 5 extra seconds right then and there, but you won't have to look at the piles of dishes throughout the day, you won't get fruit flies, it won't stink, and you won't have to take 5 minutes to wash them at the end of the day. Don't throw your clothes on the bathroom floor where you'll have to pick them up anyway, just throw them in the hamper. This one has been a tough one for us, because the mental energy we have to expend to stay on top of keeping neat is difficult, but worth it when I don't have to walk into the kitchen at 10pm and find piles of extra work you still have to do.
5.
It is amazing what a few minutes on Saturday night will do for your sanity and tidiness. Josh and I do it together and race through the house with the intention of getting through it quickly and settling down to watch a movie. I find this step the hardest of the ones listed above, because this takes actual motivation when you are feeling tired and lazy. It really does take no time at all, and once it becomes a habit, it makes a huge difference.
6. Purchase a basket or laundry basket for different zones in the house.
I went to Target and bought 4 laundry baskets, all the same, for each of the 4 members of our family. The laundry baskets are on the smaller size, so they don't take up too much space, and they are all exactly the same so I can stack them when they are not in use. When I do laundry, I fold each person's load straight into their respective laundry basket and then carry it up to their room. When I do a big clean up also, I use those laundry baskets to get each person's stuff back in their room too. So Gabe's cars, trucks, and trains all get piled into his laundry basket and placed in his room. These laundry baskets are small enough to fit on our closet floors, so if I can get to it to put away his toys and laundry- great! If not, I shove the basket into his closet and tackle it tomorrow when I'm getting him up or dressed or playing in his room. In a pinch, I've even shoved these baskets into the car when we have a showing and I don't want the closet to look crowded. 4 smaller baskets feel much easier to tackle then one heaping pile of clothes. Also, what do you do when you need your child's clothes at the bottom of the pile, and tons of clothes are sitting on top? This way, I'm hoping I'll even be able to teach Gabe to put away his clothes relatively soon. I'm also keeping better track of everyone's clothes because all mismatched socks or loose toys all get put into one (or four) central spots and I know where to find them.
I'm by no means an expert, but as a messy person who has now kept the house neat and clean for 2+ months without a major slip-up, I feel like I have learned some valuable tips for changing our life. I've also been shocked, honestly, at how much easier it is to keep the house clean when it is all picked up! It takes me no time at all to dust and vacuum and wipe down surfaces when I don't have to spend 2 hours beforehand picking up toys and clothes. That being said, I'm anxiously awaiting the day when I don't have to keep the house in this perfect state every day and we don't have any more showings. But I know I won't let it get to the same point it was before, that's for sure.
Any other tips that are helpful to you?
Friday, May 22, 2009
at least she looks cute in hats
I walked in the door this afternoon with both kids, set Josie quickly in her swing and ran full speed to the bathroom before I peed my pants. I walked back out into the kitchen and Gabe was asking to wash his hands in the sink. I lifted him on top of a chair, turned on the water, and then realized I couldn't hear Josie so I ran quickly to the living room...
And found her face down on the floor next to the swing.
As I walked in, she started shrieking in a high pitched voice. I swooped her up and started looking her over to make sure she wasn't hurt. It is only about a foot and a half from the swing to the floor, but for a baby who doesn't know to protect herself or break her fall at all, it could be bad. All I could see was a small scratch and red mark at the top of her forehead, where the hairline starts, and it only took me about 15 seconds to calm her down, but I still called the pediatrician right away. They told me to bring her in for an exam, so I shoved both kids in the car and we rushed over.
In the 5 minutes it took for us to get there, the red mark on her forehead turned into a lump, but she seemed perfectly content and smiled at everyone in the doctor's office. They checked her over and she's totally fine, but I spent those 15 minutes imagining the worst and thinking I was going to have to take her to the emergency room at any moment. I'm so relieved, and now I'm just kicking myself because I KNOW BETTER. I know I shouldn't have put her down without strapping her in- it was just a stupid mistake.
I'm not sure whether she kicked or rolled over or flung herself off of the swing, or whether perhaps a certain sibling swung the swing (as he is prone to doing) and she slipped off. It doesn't matter, really, I still should have strapped her in. I'm just so happy she's okay, and I have learned my lesson. I'd been so smug about Gabe never falling off of anything, but again Josie has obliged in humbling me. Not much of a surprise there, huh?
And found her face down on the floor next to the swing.
As I walked in, she started shrieking in a high pitched voice. I swooped her up and started looking her over to make sure she wasn't hurt. It is only about a foot and a half from the swing to the floor, but for a baby who doesn't know to protect herself or break her fall at all, it could be bad. All I could see was a small scratch and red mark at the top of her forehead, where the hairline starts, and it only took me about 15 seconds to calm her down, but I still called the pediatrician right away. They told me to bring her in for an exam, so I shoved both kids in the car and we rushed over.
In the 5 minutes it took for us to get there, the red mark on her forehead turned into a lump, but she seemed perfectly content and smiled at everyone in the doctor's office. They checked her over and she's totally fine, but I spent those 15 minutes imagining the worst and thinking I was going to have to take her to the emergency room at any moment. I'm so relieved, and now I'm just kicking myself because I KNOW BETTER. I know I shouldn't have put her down without strapping her in- it was just a stupid mistake.
I'm not sure whether she kicked or rolled over or flung herself off of the swing, or whether perhaps a certain sibling swung the swing (as he is prone to doing) and she slipped off. It doesn't matter, really, I still should have strapped her in. I'm just so happy she's okay, and I have learned my lesson. I'd been so smug about Gabe never falling off of anything, but again Josie has obliged in humbling me. Not much of a surprise there, huh?
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
I have sunk to a new low
In the rush to get out the door this morning with enough time for Gabe to get to his toddler program on time, I glanced into my purse and saw two of Josie's diapers, enough (I figured) for us to get through the four hours until we'd come back home.
This is called FORESHADOWING.
I rushed the kids out the door and started on our list of "to dos". First, I had to load the car up with the three full canisters of gasoline that Josh needed me to take to our recycling center for dumping. I guess for the past three years, rather than take the unused gasoline to the hazardous waste dumping area, he would just go out and purchase a new gasoline tank. Hence, why my car was loaded up with THREE full gas tanks. I was a little annoyed at the task, but it wasn't until I started driving that I realized that I was driving with my two precious children and several containers of flammable gasoline. I slowed the car wayyyy down and started driving 15 mph, cursing Josh the whole way.
Josie and I dropped Gabe off, and I was afraid to leave her alone with the canisters for even the 30 seconds it would take me to drop him off at the door of the toddler program because I kept envisioning the car blowing up, all lethal weapon style. We made it to the recycling center in one piece, they dumped out that gasoline, and handed the canisters back to me with gasoline dripping all over the outside. I just stood there, because there was no way I was going to get gasoline all over the inside of my car, but I ended up finding an empty diaper box in the recycling area and I put the canisters inside that box.
Unfortunately, there wasn't enough time to take the canisters home before our next "to do"- the dentist- so that car reeked of gasoline the whole way, and I had some more choice words for Josh. We drove with all the windows down, but poor Josie still sunk of gasoline when I pulled her out of the car.
Josie and I went to the dentist, where she pretended to be a perfect angel from the comfort of her car seat. I was shocked at how well she behaved, really. As we were leaving, I fed her in the car, ran home to drop off the canisters, and then we drove to our next "to do"- the hairdresser- where I was scheduled to get this horror of a haircut fixed. My current haircut has to be the worst haircut I have ever received, and I'm sorry to say that I have actually cried at how awful it looks. I can't do anything with it, I can't get it to work, I just feel like it constantly looks frizzy and nasty and too layered and uneven. Ugh, I hate it so much.
Anyway, we arrived at the hair salon and I decided to change Josie's diaper, thinking it must have been relatively full and maybe changing it now would keep us from having some of the leaking problems we've been having recently. I balled up the diaper, stuffed it under the stroller until we found a garbage can, and started off for the hair salon.
And then I heard it. The unmistakable sound of a child blowing out of her diaper. I was actually relieved Josie had spared me the embarrassment of blowing out in the waiting room of the salon, so I happily headed back to the car where I started another diaper change. It was only then that I realized the other diaper was a size 1. As in, TWO whole sizes smaller than what she wears. I tried to get it on her, and it looked like a speedo. Her butt didn't even entirely fit into the diaper, and I was going to have to hold it together with the floss the dentist had given me.
I had a moment of panic, because there wasn't enough time to go home, not enough time to go buy diapers, and I couldn't cancel my hair appointment because HELLO! disgusting hair here! So I did what any reasonable person would do, and unwrapped her original dirty diaper and put it back on her.
I know. I know. I'm disgusted with myself, and I cannot believe I am putting this down for posterity. Josie need something to talk about in therapy, though, and I figure this will suffice. My poor sweet child sat through the haircut, smiled at everyone, and sweetly watched me get my hair shampooed, cut, and blow dried, and did it all with a very dirty diaper. I owe her. Big.
Let's recap. I made my child stink like gasoline, didn't let her nap, forced her to sit through two appointments and ride around in the car seat all day, and made her do it all in a dirty diaper. Someone alert the press, mother of the year award right over here. Clearly.
This is called FORESHADOWING.
I rushed the kids out the door and started on our list of "to dos". First, I had to load the car up with the three full canisters of gasoline that Josh needed me to take to our recycling center for dumping. I guess for the past three years, rather than take the unused gasoline to the hazardous waste dumping area, he would just go out and purchase a new gasoline tank. Hence, why my car was loaded up with THREE full gas tanks. I was a little annoyed at the task, but it wasn't until I started driving that I realized that I was driving with my two precious children and several containers of flammable gasoline. I slowed the car wayyyy down and started driving 15 mph, cursing Josh the whole way.
Josie and I dropped Gabe off, and I was afraid to leave her alone with the canisters for even the 30 seconds it would take me to drop him off at the door of the toddler program because I kept envisioning the car blowing up, all lethal weapon style. We made it to the recycling center in one piece, they dumped out that gasoline, and handed the canisters back to me with gasoline dripping all over the outside. I just stood there, because there was no way I was going to get gasoline all over the inside of my car, but I ended up finding an empty diaper box in the recycling area and I put the canisters inside that box.
Unfortunately, there wasn't enough time to take the canisters home before our next "to do"- the dentist- so that car reeked of gasoline the whole way, and I had some more choice words for Josh. We drove with all the windows down, but poor Josie still sunk of gasoline when I pulled her out of the car.
Josie and I went to the dentist, where she pretended to be a perfect angel from the comfort of her car seat. I was shocked at how well she behaved, really. As we were leaving, I fed her in the car, ran home to drop off the canisters, and then we drove to our next "to do"- the hairdresser- where I was scheduled to get this horror of a haircut fixed. My current haircut has to be the worst haircut I have ever received, and I'm sorry to say that I have actually cried at how awful it looks. I can't do anything with it, I can't get it to work, I just feel like it constantly looks frizzy and nasty and too layered and uneven. Ugh, I hate it so much.
Anyway, we arrived at the hair salon and I decided to change Josie's diaper, thinking it must have been relatively full and maybe changing it now would keep us from having some of the leaking problems we've been having recently. I balled up the diaper, stuffed it under the stroller until we found a garbage can, and started off for the hair salon.
And then I heard it. The unmistakable sound of a child blowing out of her diaper. I was actually relieved Josie had spared me the embarrassment of blowing out in the waiting room of the salon, so I happily headed back to the car where I started another diaper change. It was only then that I realized the other diaper was a size 1. As in, TWO whole sizes smaller than what she wears. I tried to get it on her, and it looked like a speedo. Her butt didn't even entirely fit into the diaper, and I was going to have to hold it together with the floss the dentist had given me.
I had a moment of panic, because there wasn't enough time to go home, not enough time to go buy diapers, and I couldn't cancel my hair appointment because HELLO! disgusting hair here! So I did what any reasonable person would do, and unwrapped her original dirty diaper and put it back on her.
I know. I know. I'm disgusted with myself, and I cannot believe I am putting this down for posterity. Josie need something to talk about in therapy, though, and I figure this will suffice. My poor sweet child sat through the haircut, smiled at everyone, and sweetly watched me get my hair shampooed, cut, and blow dried, and did it all with a very dirty diaper. I owe her. Big.
Let's recap. I made my child stink like gasoline, didn't let her nap, forced her to sit through two appointments and ride around in the car seat all day, and made her do it all in a dirty diaper. Someone alert the press, mother of the year award right over here. Clearly.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
to school or not to school?
I made the decision a few months ago to keep Gabe at his toddler program for another year. He loves the program, adores the woman who runs it and she adores him (she hugs and kisses him and tells him she loves him), I think he is learning a ton from her, and he is doing it all in a wonderfully kind and caring environment. Plus, it is literally 3 blocks from my house, the timing is great (9-1pm), and she serves snack and a hot lunch. Right now he is going 2 days a week, but for May and June he'll switch to 3 days a week, and next year he is also going to go 3 days a week.
You would be shocked at the thinly veiled and/or outright criticism I have gotten over this decision. Every single other mother I know put their child in an "official" preschool for next year, and can't seem to understand why I wouldn't do the same. Gabe and all of his little friends are 2 years old, and will be 2 for the rest of this year (Gabe's birthday is in December and all his friends' birthdays are January or later). The school system in our town and neighboring towns requires a child to be 5 years old on September 1st, meaning that no matter what we choose for this upcoming September, it will be another 3 years before our children can go to school. This is the same whether they stay home for another year, do a toddler program for another year, or go to preschool for an extra year.
Certainly, I'll admit that having Gabe stay at his toddler program is convenient for us. It is very close, it is cheaper than preschool, and she FEEDS him. Do you know how much this child eats? Truthfully, though, I feel confident that this is the right decision for him. I believe Gabe is a very bright little boy and I also believe he is receiving a tremendous amount of nurturing in this program.
Gabe knows his numbers in English and Spanish, he knows his colors, he knows number correspondence (i.e. can connect numbers to objects, like counting how many cars are driving by or how many cookies are on his plate), knows most of his letters and tries to make words with those letters, he can cut well with scissors, holds a pencil correctly, shares nicely, chats up a storm in complete paragraphs, and is virtually potty trained (minus naps and nighttime) thanks to the insistence of the woman who runs the program. Most importantly, at least to me, he is happy. Happy when I drop him off, happy when I pick him up. Happy to learn new skills, happy to share what he knows. I write this not to brag about how awesome he is, although clearly I am biased on the topic, but rather to say I think he is doing just fine at this program.
Some of my friends, however, act like my decision is going to set him back for life. He may not get into an Ivy League university if he doesn't get 3 years of preschool! He won't learn to read! What about writing? Obviously, the new trend is preschool for 3 years is the Right Thing To Do. You are a Good Parent if you pay for the extra year of preschool.
Don't get me wrong, I really don't care whether people want to send their kids to preschool next year, but I do care that people seem to think what I am doing is out and out wrong or borderline neglectful. I am all about doing what is right for each kid, and I also feel strongly that we are over-educating children, over-committing them, and ending up with children who are stressed and burnt out at a young age. Those are my opinions. If you have a super fabulous preschool that is perfect for your kid, though, then of course that is what is right for you and your kid! I'm not walking around telling these moms that they're crazy.
It isn't just preschool, lots of toddlers we know are in 5 classes a week- art, music, gymnastics, etc. The parents we know are quizzing their kids over breakfast, buying educational videos that promise to teach your kid how to read, worrying when their child isn't leaps and bounds ahead of everyone else.
I will be sending Gabe to preschool in another year, and the preschools I am looking at are relatively academically rigorous. I am not anti-education, and I'm not completely immune to the Must Have Super Smart Kid pressure. I just think there is this crazy trend of more is always better these days, and alternatives are not welcome. I know Chatty Cricket has encountered it in her neck of the woods, and My Wombinations has blogged about preschools that cost more than college too (both of whom has BRILLIANT children, by the way, and aren't obsessed with the more is better thing). What about you? Is this trend limited to the Massachusetts moms?
You would be shocked at the thinly veiled and/or outright criticism I have gotten over this decision. Every single other mother I know put their child in an "official" preschool for next year, and can't seem to understand why I wouldn't do the same. Gabe and all of his little friends are 2 years old, and will be 2 for the rest of this year (Gabe's birthday is in December and all his friends' birthdays are January or later). The school system in our town and neighboring towns requires a child to be 5 years old on September 1st, meaning that no matter what we choose for this upcoming September, it will be another 3 years before our children can go to school. This is the same whether they stay home for another year, do a toddler program for another year, or go to preschool for an extra year.
Certainly, I'll admit that having Gabe stay at his toddler program is convenient for us. It is very close, it is cheaper than preschool, and she FEEDS him. Do you know how much this child eats? Truthfully, though, I feel confident that this is the right decision for him. I believe Gabe is a very bright little boy and I also believe he is receiving a tremendous amount of nurturing in this program.
Gabe knows his numbers in English and Spanish, he knows his colors, he knows number correspondence (i.e. can connect numbers to objects, like counting how many cars are driving by or how many cookies are on his plate), knows most of his letters and tries to make words with those letters, he can cut well with scissors, holds a pencil correctly, shares nicely, chats up a storm in complete paragraphs, and is virtually potty trained (minus naps and nighttime) thanks to the insistence of the woman who runs the program. Most importantly, at least to me, he is happy. Happy when I drop him off, happy when I pick him up. Happy to learn new skills, happy to share what he knows. I write this not to brag about how awesome he is, although clearly I am biased on the topic, but rather to say I think he is doing just fine at this program.
Some of my friends, however, act like my decision is going to set him back for life. He may not get into an Ivy League university if he doesn't get 3 years of preschool! He won't learn to read! What about writing? Obviously, the new trend is preschool for 3 years is the Right Thing To Do. You are a Good Parent if you pay for the extra year of preschool.
Don't get me wrong, I really don't care whether people want to send their kids to preschool next year, but I do care that people seem to think what I am doing is out and out wrong or borderline neglectful. I am all about doing what is right for each kid, and I also feel strongly that we are over-educating children, over-committing them, and ending up with children who are stressed and burnt out at a young age. Those are my opinions. If you have a super fabulous preschool that is perfect for your kid, though, then of course that is what is right for you and your kid! I'm not walking around telling these moms that they're crazy.
It isn't just preschool, lots of toddlers we know are in 5 classes a week- art, music, gymnastics, etc. The parents we know are quizzing their kids over breakfast, buying educational videos that promise to teach your kid how to read, worrying when their child isn't leaps and bounds ahead of everyone else.
I will be sending Gabe to preschool in another year, and the preschools I am looking at are relatively academically rigorous. I am not anti-education, and I'm not completely immune to the Must Have Super Smart Kid pressure. I just think there is this crazy trend of more is always better these days, and alternatives are not welcome. I know Chatty Cricket has encountered it in her neck of the woods, and My Wombinations has blogged about preschools that cost more than college too (both of whom has BRILLIANT children, by the way, and aren't obsessed with the more is better thing). What about you? Is this trend limited to the Massachusetts moms?
Sunday, April 08, 2007
parenting is a humbling experience
I have this thing about babies without shoes or socks. It bugs me. It's a little weird, I know. I'm fine with babies or toddlers barefoot in parks, I'm certainly okay with them barefoot at home or in your yard. When I see babies or toddlers running around Target or the grocery store barefoot, though, or running around in restaurants barefoot, it makes me cringe. Josh finds this endlessly amusing, and is quick to point out any children in the vicinity without socks, just to hear my diatribe on the subject.
This means, of course, that poor Gabriel gets very little sockless time to hang out. In fact,
we were in Florida this week and he became mesmerized by the sight of his toes while we sat outside in the sun. You see, he'd never really seen them before except during changes or baths. He is seriously toe-deprived.
Anyway, we were flying back from our visit with Josh's parents for Passover in Florida. The plane started its initial boarding, and I realized that I'd better change his diaper quickly before we got on the plane without a changing table. I rushed him into the family restroom at the Tampa airport and left Josh with the stroller and the food we'd bought for the flight. I pulled off the bottom of Gabriel's pajamas and unsnapped his diaper and started wiping quickly. I looked to my right to grab the clean diaper and realized that my hands were getting wet. Yup, he started peeing. All over me, all over himself, all over the wall and changing table, including the toy I'd handed him to entertain him during the diaper change. I pulled the dirty diaper out from under him to cover the stream of pee, and heard another horrifying sound.
He pooped. All over me, all over his clothes, and all over the changing table. I took one look at the mess, and pulled out my cell phone to tell Josh to book it over to the bathroom because I needed another pair of hands. In the meantime, the poop was spreading slowly underneath Gabe and across the table. Josh didn't answer, of course, so cursing wildly, I started the slow process of mopping up the mess.
I peeled off Gabe's socks, his onesie, his outfit, I took off the changing pad, recovered the table with paper towels, one-handed I wiped Gabe down and put him back down on the semi-clean table. I scrambled to get the clean diaper on him before he gave me another little present, and then I realized that over the loudspeaker they were announcing the final boarding call for our flight.
There I was, baby only semi-clean, clad only in a diaper, with a hand full of dirty pooped and peed on clothes, with only a diaper bag and a blanket with me, and the emergency change of clothes sitting in the basket underneath the stroller at the gate with Josh.
So I picked up my semi-clean, semi-naked baby, and wrapped the dirty clothes in a paper towel, and ran out of the bathroom and over to the gate, where they were ominously announcing over the loudspeaker that this was REALLY the last boarding call for flight 1861.
And then I boarded the plane. With my naked, dirty baby. All the way down the aisle until our seat. Wrapped in only a blanket, while several people exclaimed out loud when I walked by that my baby was naked. They couldn't smell him, so they didn't know he was also relatively unclean.
All I can say about the whole experience, is that I will never look askance at the barefoot babies again. I have learned my lesson. And a bit of humility in the process, too.
This means, of course, that poor Gabriel gets very little sockless time to hang out. In fact,
we were in Florida this week and he became mesmerized by the sight of his toes while we sat outside in the sun. You see, he'd never really seen them before except during changes or baths. He is seriously toe-deprived.
Anyway, we were flying back from our visit with Josh's parents for Passover in Florida. The plane started its initial boarding, and I realized that I'd better change his diaper quickly before we got on the plane without a changing table. I rushed him into the family restroom at the Tampa airport and left Josh with the stroller and the food we'd bought for the flight. I pulled off the bottom of Gabriel's pajamas and unsnapped his diaper and started wiping quickly. I looked to my right to grab the clean diaper and realized that my hands were getting wet. Yup, he started peeing. All over me, all over himself, all over the wall and changing table, including the toy I'd handed him to entertain him during the diaper change. I pulled the dirty diaper out from under him to cover the stream of pee, and heard another horrifying sound.
He pooped. All over me, all over his clothes, and all over the changing table. I took one look at the mess, and pulled out my cell phone to tell Josh to book it over to the bathroom because I needed another pair of hands. In the meantime, the poop was spreading slowly underneath Gabe and across the table. Josh didn't answer, of course, so cursing wildly, I started the slow process of mopping up the mess.
I peeled off Gabe's socks, his onesie, his outfit, I took off the changing pad, recovered the table with paper towels, one-handed I wiped Gabe down and put him back down on the semi-clean table. I scrambled to get the clean diaper on him before he gave me another little present, and then I realized that over the loudspeaker they were announcing the final boarding call for our flight.
There I was, baby only semi-clean, clad only in a diaper, with a hand full of dirty pooped and peed on clothes, with only a diaper bag and a blanket with me, and the emergency change of clothes sitting in the basket underneath the stroller at the gate with Josh.
So I picked up my semi-clean, semi-naked baby, and wrapped the dirty clothes in a paper towel, and ran out of the bathroom and over to the gate, where they were ominously announcing over the loudspeaker that this was REALLY the last boarding call for flight 1861.
And then I boarded the plane. With my naked, dirty baby. All the way down the aisle until our seat. Wrapped in only a blanket, while several people exclaimed out loud when I walked by that my baby was naked. They couldn't smell him, so they didn't know he was also relatively unclean.
All I can say about the whole experience, is that I will never look askance at the barefoot babies again. I have learned my lesson. And a bit of humility in the process, too.
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