Friday, November 28, 2008

Success at last!

Curt pooed in the potty! Curt pooed in the potty!

I know we're not out of the woods yet, but this shit is big! (No pun intended.)

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Lemonade...part deaux

(Prelude) Thanks to those who made comments. I appreciated all of them, but I must say Brenda's "That Bitch" really made me smile...

We met with the new potential pre-school Tuesday as planned. It all went well. The owners and the teachers were nice. The schedule is similar to the current school except they allot TWO HOURS for naptime versus 1.5 hours. She did say if they were quiet, they were not expected to sleep.

Curt, quiet? Give the child a book and pray.

One unexpected item did take me aback. They have an opening NOW. As in now. I told her I would have to talk to my husband and get back with her. I did say if he started, I would start him the week after Christmas. Short week, etc.

PROS for new:
1. Close to home (Cowboy can easily pick up as needed).
2. Smaller classroom.
3. Seems to be more laid-back; not so militarily -oriented.
4. Curt will go to pre-school with the kids he will go to kindergarten with.
5. $20 less a WEEK.
6. No more Dr. B (different town; can't do it with work).

PROS for old:
1. More structured (I am crazy).
2. Sterile environment.
3. Supposedly best.
4. Dr. B.
5. Had him on waiting list for two years to get in!
6. No transition heartaches.


Should this be a no-brainer? Perhaps. I will tell the owner/director ALL Curt's idiosyncrasies before I sign the line. There is no going back.

Plus, I am no at good at change. Curt is no help. Do you like this school? "Yes." Do you want to change schools? "Yes." Do you like your old school? "Yes."

Did I mention he's a "yes" man?

Saturday, November 22, 2008

in which we may be making lemonade...

Wednesday afternoon was another bad afternoon. When I entered the preschool to pick up Curt, he was lying in the floor. He wasn't screaming or crying, just lying there quietly whining. The head teacher (with her back to me) told him harshly, "You didn't sleep -- that's why you feel that way!"

When he does nap, (which has been almost every day the 1.5 years), he is up until 10 p.m. at the earliest. There have been times he has been awake at midnight,. I'm sorry to screw up your day, but most times - you really screw up my night. Screw you. Sorry, but I now hate this bitch. She is mean to any child who requires any work. Screw you again. I am the customer. I pay you almost $100 a week -- not to be mean to my child. I hate you.

She then proceeded to then be short with me, telling me how he hasn't been sleeping this week and "this is what is was today." Perhaps she should consider retiring.

Instead of feeling really sorry for myself, for Curt, and crying all the way home (as per usual) -- I had an epiphany: Now may be the time for a change.

There is a preschool three blocks from my house. I had inquired before Curt started with the PRIMO preschool and the owner slightly irritated me. She said, when I was interviewing her as the children lay alseep, "Yes, that's the only time they're good."

I called. They have a new owner. Ginger. The 4yo class has 9 children; the pre-k has 13. Curt's current class is 40.

I told the new owner, "Curt is speech delayed. Do you have any SD children in your program or do you have any experience with speech delayed children?"

She answered, "Yes, my son."

They may have an opening in January; we are visiting on Tuesday.

We'll see, but it seems to be meant to be...

Tuesday, November 18, 2008


I'm getting emails (forwards, of course) from "friends" about the Freedom of Choice Act (FOCA). They are outraged and request my help in stopping this blasphemy!

Do they not know me at all?

Apparently not, because if they did, they would know that I am and have always been, pro-choice.

The copy in these emails is scary and designed to provoke knee-jerk reactions. The talk of 13-year-olds getting abortions and Catholic hospitals losing federal funding if they refuse to perform them.

So, I've begun reading up on ole' FOCA, in the hopes that I learn what its really all about and have an intelligent response.

. . . . . . .

Expect more regular posting now that the honeymoon phase is over with Facebook. I enjoy it, but it's like making small talk at a cocktail party when you would really prefer to hang out with your best friend, drinking wine and talking until 2 a.m.

Friday, November 7, 2008

What I Want

What I want for my child, who is now four years old...

I want him to live in a country of which he can be proud.

I want him to know a time when people who love each other can marry, or at least, be able to have a union where they can count on health insurance.

I want him not to know his friends by the color of their skin, but by their names.

I want him to feel confident that the decisions of women's bodies are made by those individual women, and not some man in his 70s.

I want him to know people of all colors, religions, and ethnic groups (and sexual orientations) and not be afraid of people, but to embrace our differences.

I want him to grow up healthy and happy. This is what I wish for you, the love of my life.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Two years ago...

Two years ago on a warm October day, Cowboy and I took Curt to see the Camaratas. It was a good day and they were wonderful to him. We drove home that afternoon. As I was unpacking, "Oprah" was on television. As a working woman, I rarely watch Oprah. She had a young senator and his wife as her guests.

Although I had the TV on for "background," I had to sit down and watch. I loved his charisma and his thoughts. When Cowboy came into the room, I told him, "I just saw this senator on Oprah who is going to be our president one day."

And, now he is.

(Or soon will be.)

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Bunnies, Doggies, and Bears, OH MY!

I hope you had a Happy Halloween.

Time is going by so fast and incredibly slow at the same time. How is that?

Two years ago, 2 year-old Curt was a bunny. What's up, Doc?

Last year, he was a beagle. A sweet beagle.

This year, he says the words candy, pumpkin, scarecrow and uses them in short sentences.
This year will probably be the last year for a "sweet" costume. Next year, he'll probably be a superhero or the newest television marketing scam.

I will appreciate this year. I'll give it my Bear-y best.