Sometimes I feel like I'm a big grouch when it comes to talking/writing about L.'s school (or the state of public schools in general)--just follow the "School Daze" tag above and you'll find a whole slew of such posts. I might complain about this or that, whether it's testing, or mishandling of curriculum opportunities, or how No Child Left Behind should really be called No Child Gets Ahead. But yesterday afternoon I overheard a snippet of a conversation outside of T.'s preschool that made my blood boil a little. [more]

L. is a kid who loves and needs his routines--his crutches, we call them. Once a week I pick him up from school early and we head off to a weekly appointment some 35 minutes away. His crutch for this particular weekly outing is a book. He must always--ALWAYS--have a Hardy Boys novel with him for the 35 minute car trip to and from the appointment, and the sometimes 30 minute wait in the waiting room. As a result, he will build up a small stash of these books in the back of the car (along with the stacks of office supply catalogs he pilfers from the school's recycling bin). [more]

As is typical for North Carolina this time of the year, the weather changed very abruptly from spring to summer in the space of one day. Sunday the temperatures reached 90, bees were seen everywhere, hanging drunkenly in the hot air, and we even caught sight of the dreaded first mosquitoes of the summer. We held out as long as we could, then sparked up the air-conditioning on Friday evening, only to discover that it wasn't working.

Isn't that nice? [more]

Even though Scott and I are thrilled to put yesterday's dental experience behind us, I know T. is even more thrilled. Getting dental work done has got to be on everyone's list of things you just don't want to do. But if you have to get dental work done, I think it pays to be a kid. The pediatric dentistry practice we take the kids to is amazing, and I know when Scott and I have to get dental work done we certainly aren't allowed to watch a Curious George film, or wear groovy fish sunglasses, and we certainly never get to pick a prize from the pirate chest treasure box. [more]

L. had to learn a hard lesson this past weekend: it had to do with trust and friendship, and it was a lesson I think he is too young to learn. I was lucky that I didn't have to learn such lessons until college, but when my trust in two friends was betrayed, on two separate occasions, I remember feeling devastated, disappointed, and alone. Because the parties involved were adults, it was more difficult for me to reconcile what had happened. When the friend is an eight-year old child, though, this is a very different matter. [more]