Monday, September 12, 2011
I am about to write some very original, ground-breaking statements here in this blog. Please prepare to have your mind blown.
1. There are not enough hours in the day.
Who has ever heard a parent say this? I am sure I am the only parent with books half read, a stack of New Yorker magazines piling up (I always make time for Oprah's magazine), work outs done, and blogs going unattended for weeks at a time. I don't know the solution to this problem, unless I stop eating, spending time with my children or sleeping, all of which I spend a lot of time doing (though I could always use more).
2. My children are amazing.
Yes, another rare statement posted on the Internet. A parent gushing about her children. Who would ever guess that would be my spin on my children? Sadie is talking and repeating everything I say. (So when you hear her yell "crap" when she stubs her toe, you have me to thank; when you hear her yell "I love Excel spreadsheets," take it up with Jeff.) I try to teach Sadie something new and novel everyday so I can make my mark as a mother. Today I taught her how to take a bow when someone claps for her. I explained she's really going to need that when she gets the Nobel Peace Prize. (She may have to pay off all the little kids she bit this summer before she accepts the prize, but we have an interest-bearing account in her name for expressly that purpose.)
And, Simon, my little champion laugher. He's the happiest person I know. How am I related to this person to laughs and expresses unbridled joy all day long (provided you are not trying to change his clothes or get a booger out of his nose). I love loving Simon. He's starting to crawl and today he watched Sadie run up the stairs, so like any sane 7 month old, he tried to follow her and he made it up 3 steps. And that, my friends, is why Simon is pretty much covered in bruises. If you leave him unattended for more than .04 seconds, he starts scaling something, anything. It's cute and it's also heart-stopping. In the morning, I hear him on the monitor cooing and talking to himself. Then, I can hear him rocking on all fours, followed by a loud THUMP, which is his head that he knocks into his crib. I try to make it to his room before he starts to wail, but that's hard when you are almost legally blind and it's still dark outside and there are about 18 throw pillows on the floor. It will be a consolation to Simon that I may break my ankle trying to rescue him from his crib headbanging.
3. I would like to sleep a little more, please. Pretty please. Pretty fucking please.
Pleas for more sleep is not something I have ever heard a parent discuss. At least not in the last 3 minutes, unless you count the things I say to myself as a "discussion." Yes, we would like more sleep. Simon is doing great going longer stretches on most nights, but he went about 5 days getting up around 4:22 a.m., and you know what, he's cute and I adore him, but can we do this at, say 6? You know you are in trouble when 5:30 a.m. starts to sound like sleeping in. I know we are over the hardest hurdles sleep-wise, but it's hard not to hanker for more of the delicious z's.
4. I am obsessing about schools for my children.
Nope. No city parents spend any time thinking about this heady subject. I am the ONLY person in the world who wants the perfect school for her children: a loving community, excellent academics, great teachers, small classes, wonderful parents, diversity, safety, good after-school programs, less than $100,000 per year, close to home. How hard could this be? I have made a pledge to Jeff that every time I start worrying about the subject of schools, I will take an action step to help get clarity and move forward on this issue. This morning, right after I put Simon down for his nap, I started spinning, "what about Montessori? What about the British school? What about the CPS schools that are thriving? What about charter? OH MY GOD, what if we have to move to the suburbs?"
But. I stopped. I decided to call at least 1 school and set up and time to come and visit. I picked one that I have heard good things about. I called and basically told the receptionist that I was looking for schools, feeling anxious (not that she couldn't tell by my hysterical tone of voice), and wanted to know how I could learn about her school.
"Please hold," she said in a very nice and gentle way.
Then, the Admissions Director got on the phone and walked me through the process. Next thing I know, Jeff and I are signed up for a coffee date with this school in about a month. It totally feels like dating. If it is, we are in TROUBLE, because I fall in love pretty easily and don't fare well when I get the "it's not you, it's me" lines. But, I think there are about 200 different schools to choose from, so, as my dad always says, "there's plenty of fish in the sea." (To which, the OLD Christie, the Christie who worries, would say: "But, we need the kind of fish that will nourish our children's little spirits and growing minds and we need that fish to lead to a good college fish and we need to be sure that the fish doesn't bankrupt us along the way, since we are really looking for two fish for our two kids.)
But, new Christie is going to embrace the process and let the courtship begin. Plus, I get to take Jeff with me and it's way more fun to date once you are married.
So, yes, here are my most original thoughts for contribution to the world wide web. In the meantime, I plan to dance with my children and teach them all kinds of valuable lessons, like bowing when someone applauds you.
Tomorrow's lesson: How to golf clap.