School schedules

Before we left on summer vacation (pictures to come, sometime), Jesse and I finally got the application in for our first-choice school. (Yes, we’re early. The application was for Fall 2010 early decision.) I was excited and relieved that it was done; it was the only private school I really connected to, and I do hope he gets in. It’s philosophy (and price) fit our family. Honestly, I wish I could go there.

However, I recently saw their schedule for next year. In addition to school holidays (a Christmas break, a winter break, a spring break and a summer break), the first week of school starts in mid-September, with a few days that end at 11 am. Every first Friday the kids get out at 11 am for a teacher work day. On the days of parent-teacher conferences, the school is closed. And, of course, the school day ends at 3:15 pm.

For all those breaks and after school, there are some options–camps, classes, paying for a grandma to fly up and play with Charlie, maybe drop-in care at his current school for the first year. But what about all those half days, and weeks when camps aren’t open? What about when he ages out of his current daycare or they don’t have space for drop-in? How do working parents acquire appropriate child care for all of those random times?

I have some vacation, and some flexibility with my part-time schedule, and still the amount of off-time seems daunting. Here’s hoping not all the families in the small school have a stay at home parent; maybe they’ve figured out some tricks to make it all work.

Who knew that daycare, with its 9-6 hours and only-closed-on-major-holidays schedule was so luxurious? I guess I’ve been spoiled and didn’t even know it.

Parent-teacher conference

Yesterday we had a meeting with Charlie’s daycare teachers, who are amazing. They have a great chemistry in the room, and manage to keep twelve three-year-olds running on schedule while having fun.

Logically, I know it shouldn’t matter one whit whether Charlie is “good in school.” Not everyone is, and the pressure of school was always really stressful for me. There is more to everyone than academics, or even good relationships with teachers.

BUT…

When his teachers talked about finding him lovable and entertaining, how he is the life of the party and always ready to sing, how he cares deeply about his friends’ feelings and well-being, how his vocabulary is taking off, how he can now pedal a tricycle and is usually consistent with using words instead of screaming or crying (at least at school where they have an organized and predictable schedule)…well, it did make me proud.

And a little bashful for feeling so proud. After all, he’s doing all the growing and learning, I’m just helping him along.

Potty training

He did it!

Charlie is now in big boy pants all day long, except for sleeping.

It was a process. We started when he was 18 months by buying a potty and talking about pee and poop. Then we practiced. For a long time. He played with the potty. He found a love of flushing, pulling out long strands of toilet paper and building towers and drums out of the toilet paper rolls.

But it wasn’t until after he was three that we decided to get serious about it. We took off the diaper whenever we were at home. With hardwood floors, messes were easy to clean. Then, when we went to the theater to see a small circus (he was in a diaper), he announced he had to pee. He left the show, walked down four flights of stairs and used the big potty. It was a milestone.

So then we tried underwear and pants around the house, along with very short trips to the playground or music class. That stage took a while to master. The first time he wore underwear for a long trip, about six hours total, it was when we took the subway to the Central Park Zoo.

Even when he had the pee part down, he still had trouble holding in the poop, or making it to the bathroom when he was really tired.

But, the Tuesday after Memorial Day, he finally wore underwear to daycare. No non-nap accidents so far!

It’s going so well I’m even thinking he can wear underwear during our long drive down to Tennessee next week!

Words and plans

“What does z-o-o spell?”

“Zoo!”

And when we saw a poster in the subway that read, “Zoom,” he said, “Zoo!”

If his second word was “moo,” I should have known his first sight word would be “zoo.”

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Charlie held our small computerized Boggle game and pushed the buttons diligently.

When Jesse asked what he was doing, Charlie said, “Checking my email.”

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Our kid is already a politician.

When Patrick and Maryn came to visit for his birthday party, he tried to convince them to come have cake by saying, “Cake, guys.”

They were too busy playing and wouldn’t listen.

So Charlie threw his arms wide and said, very loudly, “Guys! Guys! I’ve got an idea.”

That’s the way to try a new approach.

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He’s been making plans without us already.

I came to pick him up from Sunflowers the other day, and he said, “I’m going to make cookies with Maryn!”

I suppose it will be borrowing the car next.

Recession blues

I’ve been way busier at work these last few months. My company hasn’t laid off anyone, but they have slashed freelance budgets, meaning more in-house work than normal. Add that to research for Charlie’s school, community obligations, buying a new-to-us used car, and preparing for trips and visitors and you’ve got quite a stressful mess with no time to blog.

Hence the long silence.

I have been keeping a list of Charlie stories, and trying to fix my broken Flickr account, so hopefully our upcoming vacation with the Boyds and Yearwoods will allow us to relax and find time for things like reading books that aren’t for work, writing and posting.

A poem

“The Garbageman”
(a going-to-sleep poem, composed while drifting off to the sounds of Ft. Hamilton Parkway outside our open window, inspired by the clinking of glass bottles)
by Charlie DeWitt

What’s that noise?
Garbage Man.
Going through our trash, our drinks.
The Garbage Man,
getting our drinks.
Yeah.

“Jenna sings ‘Old MacDonald’”

This is Charlie’s favorite video.

Computer imp

Old photos: Apple Picking 2008

We got a new laptop!

I have never been so happy to use Windows XP.

Slowly, I will put up all the old photos that have been taking up space on my camera’s memory card. Here is a small set from this past fall, when we went up the Hudson Valley to pick apples.

We chose a farm with lots of fun things to do and managed to avoid most of the misting rain.

Spring sickening

We were due, really.

We’d gone all winter with no major illnesses for any of us.

Then, two weekends past, Charlie had a high fever on Friday evening. Even though that weekend found the sun shining and warm for the first time in months, we all stayed indoors, postponing our fun plans for art shows and get-togethers.

The fever remained, low grade and not too intimidating, but accompanied by a cough, through Tuesday, which was when I took Charlie to see the pediatrician. Of course the day before that, Monday, I woke up vomiting and stayed in bed and asleep for the entire day. (I hate naps, so the constant sleeping was a big indicator: Mama’s NOT feeling good.) The trip to the doctor the next day exhausted both of us. No shots or big bad tests for Charlie. A mild flu, it’s going around, don’t worry unless the fever continues to the end of the week or gets worse.

So, we started the lung meds and the fever went away on Thursday. By Thursday night, I had caught his terrible cold and could not breathe through my mucus or move off the couch without complaining. Friday evening, his fever was back, mild but irritating. Saturday and Sunday saw crying jags, but nothing serious. He’s just tired from being under the weather all week, I thought. But Monday evening he came home with a temperature of 101.

That night it escalated. He woke up Tuesday morning with a temperature of 103.5. Even Tylenol every four hours didn’t break that fever’s back. He was listless, lethargic, not eating…so back to the doctor we went.

Only to find that his lungs were great.

This time it was scarlet fever.

I think my gut-clenching reaction must have shown on my face, because the doctor was quick to say that really it was strep throat with a scarlet fever rash. He’d be all better with 24 hours of antibiotics. (She said anyone who has read Little Women tends to react the way I did when she gives that diagnosis.)

So we’re home today. And true to her word, within eight hours of taking the antibiotics Charlie’s fever was gone. After this morning’s dose, the rash disappeared.

Antibiotics are amazing. They keep the Victorian deaths at bay.

Now, I’m knocking on wood that I don’t catch strep throat, especially since my Internet research has said adults don’t tend to get it unless they’ve recently had a cold, oh, and then it’s really serious. Yeah, nothing to worry about.

Zinc, vitamins and OJ here I come.