But back to happy thoughts: spring. Man, what I wouldn’t give for a 70-degree day with sunshine and no wind – on a weekend – where we can all go outside and ride in the Jeep and work on a project and ride ponies. Lord, you listening?
Please note the daddy playing with the baby toes.
Katie is looking forward to decorating our house with more pink and red and hearts for Valentine’s Day. I love watching her do artwork. Each time, she’s better and better at coloring in the lines and drawing detailed pictures of people and shapes. It’s so fun to watch the progress. I told her daddy in front of her the other night that the one bright spot for me when she starts school will be to watch her learn and progress with what she can do. To which she responded:
“But Mama…you won’t be at school with me.”
She was so matter-of-fact. Like “get with the program.”
And then her daddy says, “Yah, Mama, you won’t be there.”
Thank you. No need to rub salt in the wound, Iceman.
And the biggest thing on the docket: I have to decide if we’re going to tour a local preschool this coming month or not. You know, to see if we would want to send Katie there for a little bit, to get her ready for the school gig. She’s going to be 3 ½ this coming month. I guess you know I want absolutely nothing to do with this.
I don’t want to rush anything. I don’t want to put her in school just because society says I should or because there is fear that she’ll get behind. The only reason I’m even considering it is so that full-time kindergarten won’t shock her system when I start sending her at seven.
That’s not too late, right?
I can see the good in sending her: she gets a taste for this school business, it breaks us all in slowly, she gets something special to call her own when Baby Brother hits the scene, Brother and I get some one-on-one time, and she learns.
I can also see the not as good in sending her: a bunch of changes when our house is already about to be turned upside down, I don’t want her to think she’s being sent off just because Brother is here, she’ll be ruined, and it just might be pointless.
I know every kid and every family is different, so there’s no textbook answer, but this is so tough for me. I’m such a tender-hearted crybaby homebody.
Why oh why can’t it be the olden days where we farmed and wore aprons and never left our place and all you had to know was how to tend a garden or milk a cow or birth a goat?
Oh, I kid. I enjoy my worldly advancements.
All of them except for having to send your baby to school.
Welcome to my brain. I hope you didn’t get anything on you.