why I chose half day kindergarten

Friends, acquaintances, family are often surprised when they hear that my daughter goes to half day Kindergarten. Or that our town even still has half day Kindergarten.

I will admit that back in the baby days, when I looked ahead the the far, far off day that my girl would start school, full day kindergarten seemed like the mark of a better school. More equals better right? More time in school equals smarter kid right?

Fast forward five years and I chose half day kindergarten. Truth be told, our town does offer a lottery for full day kindergarten. And the lovely private school where my daughter went to preschool offers a very highly regarded full day Kindergarten program. But. Time is going by so fast. My time with both of my girls is going so fast. They have years of school ahead of them. Sixteen, at least.

And full day Kindergarten would mean that on days like today, we would not be able to hop on the 12:20 train into the city, lunch in hand, for an afternoon at the Children's Museum.

waiting for the train- the train ride always ranks as one of the best parts of the day

girl power!

both girls could happily spend hours climbing up and down this thing together

Days like today are the reason I chose half day Kindergarten. I just hope that down the road, those lost hours don't look bad on her Ivy league application.

cabin fever

My couch is filled with jelly beans.

Every time my little one sneezes her face is covered in snot.

My laundry basket is overflowing despite the fact that my washer seems to be running constantly.

My five year old's habit of repeating every question at least ten times is driving me insane.

Every day is different, but somehow the same old thing.

I have no energy and no enthusiasm.

My closet is filled with black. I am sick of black, but I need to hide my lumpy middle somehow.

I have eaten entirely too much kielbasa and too many chocolate chip cookies this week.

I am tired of the world being cold and bare.

I am tired of worrying about the financial state of our country, our world and our little family.

I know that there are much bigger problems in the world than mine. I know that I have much to be thankful for.

But seriously, we need some Spring around here.

my valentine

Last night I lay down on the couch, exhausted after a long day and several long nights.

A few minutes later, my husband came down stairs and started doing the dishes.

"Just leave them there and I will do them in the morning", I said

"We are a team," he replied

"Yes, but the kitchen is my thing and I will feel guilty laying here if you are doing dishes." After all, he gets up even earlier than I do and works all day.

"We are a team," he replied firmly, loading up the dishwasher and washing out the pans.

The truth is, my husband does the majority of the cleaning in this house. I pick up after the kids and do the occasional vacuuming, but he is the one who does the real cleaning. And the lawn mowing and snow blowing and garbage collecting and the fixing of broken things. He makes breakfast on Saturday morning and often dinner on Saturday night. Oh, and he is also the financial provider.

I do the majority of the cooking and the child care, the actual paying of the bills, the laundry, the shopping, the planning, the scheduling, the organizing of the house and the kid's activities.

Hum, how is it that my list is looking shorter than his?

But the bottom line is we are a team. I sleep in on Saturday, he sleeps in on Sunday. I put one girl to bed, he puts the other to bed. This is how our marriage works. This is how we survive a life filled with too many messes, not enough time, not enough sleep and two always beautiful but often infuriating little girls.

And while I cherish the memory of the romantic dinners, frequent trips and expensive presents that filled our pre kid days together, I can not imagine anything more perfect for me now than this life.

I voted...

... because I love my country and all that it stands for.


... because I want my children to begin to understand what democracy means.


... because I want a better future for my children.


... because I love that by doing so, we can peacefully overthrow the government every four years.


And the girls? They enjoy any event that includes stickers and a bake sale.

Here in our fiercely blue state the election results are all but certain. Neither party really bothers to campaign here and in all but two of the offices on our ballot a Democrat ran unopposed.

Even so, I am proud to have exercised my right to vote in this historic election.

the making of a better parent

Since the end of my first pregnancy, I have subscribed to various parenting magazines. They came free with purchase or as gifts or seemed like a great deal at three years for the price of one. I am sure you know the ones. I am sure you subscribe to them too.

As a new mom, I earnestly read or at least skimmed the pages each month. I remember in those early days I got together with another new mom and baby pair each week. This mom was always asking me things like "Do you have a baby Bjorn? Did you see there was a recall??" Invariably, I had not.

I always left feeling vaguely negligent and vowed to study harder. To be a better parent.

As the years went by, I built a network of supportive friends and family. I discovered blogging. And Wondertime (I puffy heart Wondertime). I found my confidence and my parenting style. I came to trust myself as the expert on what is best for my children and my family.

But somehow the magazines, with their warnings, solutions and expert advice, still arrive each month.

Let's look at a sampling of this months offerings:

• The monthly It Happened to Me feature tells the story of a woman who was carelessly rushing out of the supermarket and partially severed her toddler son's finger on the door. Yikes. Moms, you can never be to careful. Never. Ever.

• Next we have some shots of pregnant celebrities wearing high heels, with a warning that high heels during pregnancy are dangerous. The piece goes on to say that flats and flip flops are also bad. No advice on what one should wear, just another item to add to your list of worries.

• Then on to some Q &A. First we have a woman concerned that she saw her neighbor's kid riding a bike without a helmet. Then a woman who prefers to be addressed as Mrs. So and So, and wonders if it is okay to correct her children's friends.
  
  Seriously? Who are these women? And where exactly do they find all this time to stew over other people's parenting and write in to magazines about it?

• And finally we have some tips on styling your hair when you don't have time to wash it. Um, okay, but if I had the time to buy all these styling products and follow a series of styling instructions I would just, I don't know, wash my hair.

Do we really need more reasons to judge? To worry? To feel bad about our parenting or ourselves? Or inferior to some "expert", no matter how helpful and friendly their tone?

I don't. I am officially done reading this stuff and I am done feeling bad about it.