Wednesday, August 24, 2011

The Experienced Mother

So over the weekend I had to make the decision of whether or not to move my son out of his assigned Kindergarten class. At our Back-to-School Night I had talked briefly to the principal about the situation because right away there were several things I was uncomfortable with. He was very principalian about it-- vaguely understanding, while supporting his teacher and the situation in a fair manner, and gently discouraging regarding my desire to switch classrooms. I told him I'd go home and think it over.

And I did. I thought about it, and talked to a few people about it. And in the end I felt that I was unhappy about several of the circumstances surrounding his current class that it was worth it to have him switched. I'm glad I did, but I do take these things seriously. School administrators work hard and deal with a lot and generally I keep my mouth shut about things I roll my eyes at because unless they are really critical, I think it's generally not worth making trouble. These are the kinds of decisions that make parenting a precarious walk along the ridgepole of a roof.

But then last night we had rice for dinner and the baby dug in and made a complete mess sending rice everywhere. He's at the "I want to wield a spoon PLEASE! but have no idea how to do it!" phase. So in the end he just uses his hands. After dinner I cleaned up the left-overs and loaded the dishes in the dishwasher, but when it came time to wipe down the table and sweep up the floor I left the rice and went to bed.

This is the kind of decision I can handle. This is the kind of thing I am experienced in: Cleaning up dried rice is a million trillion times easier than wet rice. Especially off the floor.

This morning, clean up will be a piece of cake.

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